Forget About the Sunshine
by LoveIsATemple
Summary: Klaroline following episodes 5x11, 12, 13. A series of 10 drabble/one-shots ranging from 'Klaus breaking his promise' to 'Rebekah asking Nik why he's so goddamned happy after returning from Mystic Falls.' * More information inside *
1. In the Dark

**A/N 1: **_I recently fell madly in love with Klaroline and found this fan website (Klarolinemagazine dot com) that had a list of the Ten Drabbles they'd like to see after the last few episodes of TVD because of all the angsty sadness/hotness/heartbreakingness. I've taken it as a challenge to write all ten of them and this is number one - **Klaus and Caroline run into each other in the future outside of both Mystic Falls and New Orleans without meaning to**. I don't really think that this one can be considered drabble (as it is over four thousand words) and it's probably really awful because I've never even tried to write anything for Klaroline and I've never dealt with writing drabble. I'm a wordy person. But this is number one in a set of ten (and I will probably rewrite this first one a different way as a bonus if people enjoy these enough) so I hope my skills at writing these characters and writing in less words will get better. It's rated M but this may not seem too M rated. I'm saving that for a few down the road._

_Please read and review if you feel like it! It would be wonderful if you told me what you thought! Especially if it's saying you want more. Thank you so much in advance and I hope it's not written too horribly! _

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><p><strong>"But if happiness won't come to me, hand me the nitrous gas. <strong>

**You can keep all of your oxygen, hand me the nitrous gas. **

**And if happiness won't live with me, I think I can live with that. **

**You can keep all of your oxygen, hand me the nitrous gas."**

**Nitrous Gas | Frightened Rabbit**

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><p><strong>Drabble # 1 (of 10) | In the Dark<strong>

Caroline loved that one moment in the movie theatre just before the film started when the whole room went soul-hauntingly black. She could sense everyone's fear then, almost hear their thoughts. The sweat that leaked through the pores in their skin smelled sweet and the blood boiling within their veins called to her like a siren's song.

She came to the theatre often. Never for a movie. Just so she could pretend for a moment that any one of the people in the room could be her next prey. Pretend she was a heartless killer. Pretend she was that-guy-she-was-never-to-think-about-ever-ever-never.

The ritual calmed her aching canines, but in that blackness, that extreme, utter darkness, the ripples of veins came out to play under her eyes and it took all her strength, the strength she'd been building for years on end, not to turn her head and sink her teeth into the person next to her's throat. No matter how well their blood sang, she couldn't become that person.

She'd bought a ticket for the first movie she saw up on the board tonight. Some fantasy flick she'd seen advertised on television. Big star, big budget, probably shitty and not worth the nearly twenty bucks it cost for a ticket. D.C. had a serious problem with making everything way too goddamned expensive.

Caroline found a seat somewhere in the middle of the gargantuan room. The chairs were cushioned and had no cup holders. They'd stopped selling drinks and snacks a couple of years ago at movie theaters because they promoted "unhealthy habits" or some crap like that. God, had the world spiraled out of control.

People milled in behind her, some sitting far down and others going way up. She tried not to look around, but she couldn't ever help herself when there was so much blood and sweat all in one room.

Some were nervous, their first dates strapped to their arms like they'd been in love forever. She liked those ones. The nervous ones. They smelled the best. Like kindness and sugar.

Others were angry. At their spouses, their bosses, the world. At the baby late at night who won't stop screaming. At the woman threatening to out their secret relationship.

Barely any were happy. She could sense one happy person in the area. They gave off an illustrious glow of sunny light and if Caroline breathed in at just the right moment, she could smell the coffee and hope. The scent made her sick.

Someone sat next to her and she automatically moved her wrist of the chair arm, instead clasping her hands in her lap. The lights dimmed and Caroline watched the screen burst to life, the trailers and random car commercials bringing excitement to the dull theatre.

Several minutes, painstaking minutes of sweat and boiling blood, past until finally the lights switched off.

_Six seconds._

It always lasted for six glorious seconds.

Caroline closed her eyes.

Her brain went haywire. Her smile disintegrated.

There was a lingering scent in the air, a different one than she was used to. It wasn't human. It was dangerous. Like death had crawled into the air vents and was blowing specifically over the blonde vampire in the middle of the movie theatre.

_Five seconds. _

But there was something underneath the imminent threat, something familiar.

_Four seconds_.

Whatever it was, it was blocking everything else. The strangest perfume, clouding her nostrils, assaulting them. Her head was going fuzzy. Her belly was pinching.

_Three seconds. _

The body next to her spilled some candy. It was loud and bouncy: skittles, maybe M&Ms.

Caroline's pulse started to twitch.

_Two seconds._

Nothing was working right. Not inside her body. Not outside. She'd stopped breathing, thinking, moving. Her heart was squeezing itself dry.

_One second._

Her breath came out in one whoosh of a syllable, "Klaus."

A bomb of light exploded in front of her eyes as the film started up.

An action sequence with guns and loud bangs, scraping feet, screaming women, spaceships, aliens, monsters. Caroline blinked, finally. Her eyes were dry, but a wet streak (it must be a tear) hit her lip. Salty. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, letting the curls bounce and flow down her bare shoulders.

She didn't dare turn her head. Both men either side of her seemed intent on watching the film, their large bodies blocking most of her view.

Her head struggled to come up with a plan. She needed to get out of there, to escape from the temptation. From death itself.

In frustration, she turned her head and faced the man on her right. "Could you move, please?" She asked, not bothering to be sweet. He smirked at her, moving his legs back to allow her room for escape. Caroline stood up quick, grabbing her purse and starting her walk. Something grabbed her hand back. She whipped around, a growl bubbling in her throat.

"What do I get?" The burly man asked. He smelled like smoke and booze.

Caroline yanked her hand back. "You get two seconds to stop looking at me before I rip your fucking head off." He turned around with a frightened huff, but Caroline couldn't find it in herself to be pleased with the amount of strength in her voice.

She clambered over feet, tripping a little bit, and scrambled toward the exit. Her mind had taken to remembering everything about the last encounter she had with _him_. The tense air that surrounded them as he swore he'd never bother her again. That sensation of drowning as she looked in his eyes that had darkened considerably with lust. The shakiness in her as she spoke, telling him at last what she wanted; telling herself for the first time, admitting to herself, that _he _was what she wanted.

Knowing that she was never going to see him again - he didn't seem like the type to turn back on his word, especially with her - unlocked something inside of her. And then she had pounced. And it had felt so good, so uncharacteristically mind-blowing. Literally, she thought her head was going to explode with all the goodness.

Bark scraping against her back, Klaus' own fingers dancing along her body like he wanted to commit every dip of her skin to memory, the smirks he gave whenever he'd elicit some obscenity from her tongue.

The clean up had been the worst part. Not awkward, but heated. Like they were angry at each other.

He hadn't even spared her a glance as he ran away, quick as a lighter running high on gasoline.

The red glowing exit sign, her saving grace, met her with open arms and she slammed out of the theatre, running ever so slightly through the crowds of people bustling to get to their boring, overpriced movie.

Outside it was warm, summer approaching the city life of D.C. fast. A gentle breeze blew past Caroline and she tried to find a quick route to get home, swiveling her head left and right before deciding a path that would help her move at her superhuman speed without being noticed by the prying eyes of politicians and people who thought they knew too much about the world.

Feet ready to go, traffic lights blinking red orange green, horns blaring, cell phone arguments, flipping off, cursing, kisses, shouts, screams. Murderers, rapists, hackers, thieves, their victims all scrambling inside of Caroline when she felt him.

_Him. _

Caroline stayed perfectly still, the thrumming of her heart and the rushing of blood inside her veins the only things moving. Every bit of her was telling her, shouting at her, to turn around and face him. The aching in her belly, her core, it was practically pulling her around on its own. But she fought against it. She had to. It took her whole brain, the thing scientists believed weren't being used to their full power, to not look at him.

He was bad. He was evil. He was everything that was wrong in the world, in her world.

And she knew that if she had even the slightest glimpse of his face, his dimpled, scruffy face, she'd be putty in his hands. And he'd be an all too willing sculptor.

"Hello, love."

She wasn't prepared for his voice. Or his choice of words. He sounded gruff and excited, but pleasantly surprised.

And that was all it took to snap her brain in half. She turned, expecting to see a smirk and bright eyes. What met her, though, was the most sexually fueled scowl her head had ever had to take in. They stared at each other for what felt like a millennium, but was closer to seconds in reality.

Finding her voice, Caroline tried to calm her nerves, "Klaus."

A small smirk played at his lips and Caroline had a hard time dragging her eyes away from it. "Again with the name. I'm beginning to think you missed me."

In years past, the arrogance and suggestiveness in his voice would have turned Caroline off. Or at least she'd tell herself it turned her off. Now, it'd been thirty years and she realised that yes, she had in fact missed this man.

Stubbornness proved futile as he stepped closer, Caroline could now feel his breath washing over face, blowing at her hair, attacking her mind. She inhaled discreetly and her eyes nearly fluttered shut when she caught a stronger whiff of what had plagued her in the theatre. Pine needles, desire, and man. All Klaus.

He bent his head forward a bit, gauging her reaction. She could see a fire starting behind his eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest, absentmindedly giving him a better view of her chest.

His mouth quirked up into a wolfish grin.

Something, something brought on by the childish glint in his eye, broke Caroline out of her stupor and the next thing she knew, because her mind was not working well enough to proofread her own actions, her hand slapped hard across Klaus' face.

Unprepared for the violent attack, Klaus yelped and Caroline faintly noticed a few people's heads turned to watch the outbreak of entertainment unfolding before their very bodies. Klaus stood with one hand rubbing at his reddening cheek. Soothing her own aching hand, Caroline stared up at him like she was twice his size.

Klaus laughed sheepishly and shook his head. Caroline bit back a sigh and an eye role.

"Okay, look," he said through random spurts of chuckling. Caroline started tapping her foot, burying the temptation deep within her. "I have to be honest here. I wasn't looking for you."

Caroline scoffed. "Why do I find that so hard to believe?"

"Because you like to think you know me," he answered calmly.

"No, I don't think. I one hundred percent know you, Niklaus. Always popping up when least expected, toying with the poor heart of your long lost lover."

"Just happen to be in town, love. Had no intention of running into you ever again."

"Ever?" Caroline asked, failing to keep the helplessness out of her tone.

"I promised I'd stay away, didn't I?" Klaus' face had warmed considerably, the red mark fading fast from his cheek.

Suddenly, looking at him was too much. His bright eyes, the curly locks atop his head, the smooth muscle poking through the fabric of his shirt. It brought on too many painful memories. He was the bad guy. Not the good guy. The devil, not the angel. Hades himself, ruler of the underworld.

So why was she having such a hard time convincing herself of that? Was it because when they'd slept together thirty years ago, when he slid into her and she gasped and cried out his name in shock and want and something so similar to love, she'd felt some connection to him? Like a telepathic link between them telling her that he was more of an angel to her than the angels were to God himself?

Caroline turned away, wrapping her arms around her waist, and let out a frustrated sigh.

"Are you angry with me, love?" He asked and she shook her head, letting her chin connect with her chest. "Are you angry with me, Caroline?" He was behind her now, whispering secret messages in her ear, filling her head with lust and an itching to spend the rest of her life with him. She shook her head again.

"Then why the long face?"

She scraped her chin just slightly, opening up her neck so she could glance at him over her shoulder. "You."

"Me," he agreed, less slyly than he could have.

Her body shifted more, half facing him now. "Why should I believe you?"

"Do you really want me to go even if I had been searching for you?"

Caroline took those few extra steps to get right in front of him and braced the palms of her hands on the softness of his grey t-shirt. She shook her head again.

..1..

She believed he hadn't been looking for her. He didn't even know where she lived. Maybe he was lying, but Caroline meant it when she said she knew him. He wouldn't lie to her like that.

They didn't speak as they rushed to her apartment near the outskirts of the city, remaining completely silent as their shoes squeaked wetly along the steps of the apartment building. His hand didn't try to close around hers and she refused to spare him anymore glances.

No awkwardness, just trepidation. Caroline assumed that thirty years didn't mean much when you'd been alive for over a thousand, but to her, thirty years meant so much. She'd seen the people she loved fall victim to disease and drugs and alcohol and time. Her poor heart held the weight of a thousand lifetimes, while Klaus' bore the world of a thousand broken lies.

Her rusty handle clicked when the door to her apartment opened and she trailed inside, expecting Klaus to follow. Then she laughed. A rueful thing. Klaus smiled at her.

"Right, how could I forget. I don't make it a point to invite many vampires over. You may come in, Klaus." But he wouldn't move. "I said you can come in, Klaus. Don't be shy. I don't bite."

Bracing his hands on the doorjamb, Klaus looked her over. "Oh, I have the scars to prove that you bite, Caroline."

A little jolt of pleasure washed over her as she remembered when he'd asked her, begged her really, to sink her fangs into his shoulder that time in the woods. She blushed, walking over to him and placing a hand on his cheek. The warmth of his skin surprised her and she allowed a little bit of her ice to melt away.

"You can come in, Klaus," she whispered.

He bowed his head into her touch and closed his eyes. "I know I can, love. Caroline," he corrected himself, his lips brushing her palm with every word. "But I'm afraid I'll never want to leave if I allow myself to step over this threshold."

Pain. He was in pain. She saw it engulfing him in flames of torture. The final straw. The last puzzle piece. Check mate. Game, set, match.

Caroline's inhibitions flew out the door behind Klaus and she leaned in, stopping just short of reaching his lips, willing for him to open his eyes. As if he could read her mind, which she wouldn't doubt he could, she saw his darkening irises watch her carefully. And then she took the plunge, her entire body giving up and giving in to every sensation, every memory, every flirty word and glance, every touch, kiss, loving embrace.

They staggered back and Caroline heard her door slam as she tripped over something and landed on her sofa. Their kiss didn't break as he started ripping at her clothes, tearing her shirt off the same way he had against a tree thirty years ago, only this time with more zealous and need and hurt. Her bra went next, then her flimsy skirt and underwear. She tore at his clothing and it ripped to the floor, a pile forming of all their lost clothes and apprehension.

A thumb flicked her nipple and she arched her back into Klaus' touch, his mouth moving down her neck and allowing her to release a whimper. He smiled against the smoothness of her collarbone and she scraped her fingernails up his back, blood tickling down and pooling at the waist of his jeans. He shivered, continuing to pay attention to her chest while Caroline numbly tried to get his jeans off. She got the belt off and the pants halfway down before she heard Klaus growl and step away from her for a second before he was back, naked.

Sex was easy if Caroline didn't think about it. If all it was was two consenting adults trying to get something pleasurable out of the horrid world they just barely survived in. There was a bit of a connection, a spark of something, and then it was over. She'd tumble with her partner, whoever he happened to be, before they picked up their things and never saw each other again. Sex was easy. Unless it was with Klaus.

Foreplay had been their thing back in the woods, she remembered it vividly. The way his fingers scraped up her thigh, landing in a pool of want. How he'd pushed those same fingers up and up until she was screaming so loud the birds in the trees whistled away. Then he'd started to play with her breasts, lathering them in his saliva, leaving his mark on her. He laughed every time she jerked her head and she smiled at him then, letting him have his fun until she could get her hands on him. He'd been less willing to let her take control, but he'd submitted soon enough, joking about being the lamest alpha male on the planet.

Now, though, nothing was playful. It was all angst ridden and humorless and needy. He had her writhing at his touch before he even got to her aching core.

This wasn't sex.

It wasn't sex when he climbed over her, not when he looked her in the eye and said so many things without moving his lips, or when he bit his chapped bottom lip, holding her hip with one hand and himself with the other, and braced himself at her entrance. It wasn't just sex when Klaus cried out 'I'm sorry' and Caroline heard his plea for forgiveness, for everything; for torturing her and her friends, for breaking her and Tyler up, for loving her without knowing how because he'd always viewed love as this killing machine much deadlier than even himself, for sweeping her up inside of him and holding her captive.

This was something so much more. Not mating, not intercourse, not even passionately driven lovemaking.

It was hatred, abandonment, need, overwhelming want, thirst, taking, giving. It was coming home after being away for too long. It was tears of love dripping onto her face and splashing with her own salty weeping.

Klaus stayed above her the whole time, keeping his eyes locked on hers, as he moved and moved and moved. She smoothed her hands everywhere. His back, his chest, his stupid beaded necklaces he never seemed to take off. She landed her fingers in his hair and tugged him down so her lips could meet his. He gave into her relentless mouth and gurgled some lost words of devotion as he continued rocking in and out of her, coming almost all the way out before plunging deep.

Her cries died in his throat and when he reached between her thighs to help her along, she sunk her teeth into his bottom lip and didn't miss the way he looked at her like he'd never seen such beauty, such hope, before. Caroline tasted his blood pouring into her mouth, the sweetness landing on her tastebuds. It awakened some feral beast inside of her and she released his mouth and instead sunk her fangs into the same exact spot she had three decades ago.

That was when it all ended. When it all came to a rumbling, rolling halt. The minute her sharp teeth pinched the sensitive skin of his scars, he collapsed over her as she jerked beneath him, still lapping at his blood, letting him literally fuel her lifeline.

When she'd stopped shaking and when he'd stopped panting, when they realised what they'd done and who with, they separated. Not awkwardly, but sadly. Like it was finally all over.

They got dressed in silence. She needed new clothes and on a whim grabbed the shirt she'd stolen from him when they'd slept together the last time. Pulling it over her head, she tried to prepare herself for what came next.

Klaus was sitting on her sofa clad in only boxers, observing a few of the photographs she'd kept lying around. He was fiddling with something in his hand and Caroline slowly seated herself next to him.

"Caroline," he said quietly, as if he was afraid his voice would break if he spoke too loudly. The way he sang out her name sent a new wave of longing (dare she say love) through her and she settled her cheek on his shoulder, watching him study the random picture of her and Bonnie from when they'd last seen each other twenty one years ago.

Without looking at her, Klaus pulled her arm into his lap and began trailing lazy circles up and down her skin. Goosebumps followed his fiery trail until he got to her hand. He pressed something into it, something worn and old. He released her hand and she took a breath before opening up the slip of paper he'd given her. It was her, of course. A much more breathtaking version of herself. The her that was seen through the eyes of someone who was deeply entranced with her.

Caroline Forbes, lying on her bed in an old and oversized Henley long-sleeved shirt, clutching the fabric to her nose. Eyes closed, the look of elation playing on her face. A moment captured in time.

"I came to your window before I left to keep up my end of the bargain after that little escapade in the woods. And there you were, lying in my stolen shirt as if you'd never before worn such a magnificent piece of clothing. I wanted to tap on the window, say something witty and wonderful before I left, just to leave my mark or something," he told her, a nostalgia creeping into his words. "But you looked peaceful and content. You looked lovely," he took her hands again, gently settling them in his lap and forcing her to look at him. She saw the pain of a thousand years, a thousand deaths, in his stare. "You looked like you were in love. But you'd told me the only way you'd ever want me was if I was to leave and never come back. My poor manly brain was awfully confused because right here," he motioned to the picture, "you were definitely in love."

"I was," Caroline croaked, falling into Klaus' arms. He wrapped them protectively around her. "And I've spent years trying not to be in love . . ." she trailed off, silent sobs wracking her body.

"With me," he finished and she moved her head 'yes' against his chest. "What now?" He asked, running a hand through her golden hair.

"Now," she began against his bare chest, "you let me sleep in your arms."

Immediately, he fell back against the sofa, pulling her with two arms on to his chest, placing his hands against the small of her back as she rested her head right over the erratic beating of his heart. She could feel it, pounding against her ear, telling her that he loved her too. That this could work.

"A hummingbird," she whispered sleepily.

"Mm?"

"Your heart, it's beating a hummingbird's. Pattering on like a machine gun," she repeated his words from way too long ago like he had just said them. He had gone still beneath her and a part of her wondered if he'd fallen asleep. She felt safer admitting the next part if he weren't conscious to hear it. "You make me want to live, Klaus. You make me wish we were constantly on the verge of death, satisfied daily that we'd made it out okay. Truly, I used to think being human was mundane. And then I missed it when I became a vampire. And then, slowly, I started understanding how amazing never having to worry about death was. But then everyone started dying around me, they started leaving. And I was hit so hard with the realsitaion that living forever hurt so much more than never knowing if I was going to wake up when I fell asleep at night. You make me want to be human."

She whispered all these things to him, soaking her words through the pores in his skin, letting her warm breath and sadness soothe him. She knew he was awake, but she didn't care. It didn't matter anyway.

"Stay," she murmured, sleep ripping at her violently as she struggled to keep her eyes open, struggled to remember everything about how it felt to kiss him, touch him, taste him. It was futile, the struggle with sleep. It captured her quite like Klaus, dragging her to the depths of weird dreams and loneliness.

..1..

A stream of light woke her up. She rubbed her face tiredly as she sat up on the sofa, looking around for any signs of last night. Her clothes had been as neatly folded as they could have been, draped over the back of a chair. She stood, her legs wobbly from her activities yesterday, and made her way to the kitchen table where a piece of paper flapping in the wind being let in by an open window caught her attention.

Of course it was a sketch of her, asleep. Peaceful and alone.

Printed at the bottom, in Klaus' haunting script:

_Humanity would be worth it with you by my side, Caroline._

_Love,_

_Klaus. _

She turned the page over, feeling foolish for asking him to stay. More words, more love notes, were scrawled on the back. She knew he wouldn't. He was too prideful.

The door blew open just as her eyes scanned the rest of Klaus' empty promises.

_I've just nipped out to grab you some breakfast, love. I was thinking we could go out today. The zoo, perhaps? I hear it's wonderful. _

Caroline looked up and saw the arrogant smirk planted firmly on his perfect face.

"You're a bastard, you know that?" She asked rhetorically. He just nodded and motioned for her to sit down.

"You thought I'd abandoned you." He handed her a bagel. Sesame seed with honey almond cream cheese. Her favourite.

She scowled at him. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"Caroline, dear, I'm a changed man," he placed a hand on his chest and smiled.

"The zoo sounds great, Klaus."

"I think you can start calling me Nik now, love." He said through a mouthful of food.

She raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Oh, why?"

"Well, I deem you worthy of calling me that," he said.

"And why's that exactly?" She challenged.

"You love me. You're _in love _with me," he murmured like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Caroline caught her breath and smiled a little teasing smile. "Is that so? How do you know claim to know a thing like that, Mr. Mikaelson?"

She was caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes as he stared at her, swallowing his food and placing a gentle hand over hers. "Because," he said soothingly. "I'm so helplessly in love with you, I don't think I could survive if you didn't feel the same way."

Coughing, Caroline felt her stomach do a million somersaults. "Well then, the zoo sounds great. . .Nik."

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><p><strong>AN 2: **_Ahh! The cheese! It burns! _

_Well, that was an experience. I tried to keep up with how I thought it'd be after they split in 5x11 and then hadn't seen each other for thirty years. So, you know, all stubborn and angst-ridden. _

_"Nitrous Gas" __is one hell of a sad song, but I think that it's a good listen. Go check out Frightened Rabbit (and especially that song). I imagine that being the song that would fit with the semi-sexy scene. And the whole story (Forget About the Sunshine) is a line in an All-American Rejects song "Sunshine." _

_One down, nine to go! Thank you all for reading!_

_-LoveIsATemple_


	2. The Ex

**A/N 1: **_Here we are again! And wow! Holy hell, I did not expect nearly so much positive feedback from you guys. I cannot describe how giddy it made me whenever I found a new email telling me someone else had favourited or followed this story. It means so so much that you liked it and I can only hope this one goes over well too. It's much shorter (I'd hoped to get it under 3,000 words and I succeeded, not including the authors notes), but I hope it still reads like a good story. I'm nervous about this one, so I am crossing my fingers that you all enjoy it. Alright, here is number two - **Caroline tells Tyler on her own terms, or not at all. **I won't tell you which one I decided to go for, but I will tell you that if this thing continues to be well received, then I'll rewrite it the other way around as a bonus chapter._

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

_Again, please just enjoy this. If you do, don't be afraid to tell me. But, I am a human being with feelings, so be gentle if you didn't like what I've written. Favourite, follow, blah blah blah if you feel like it. Thank you all for your wonderfulness! _

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><p><strong>"And I can tell just what you want,<strong>

**you don't want to be alone, you don't want to be alone.**

**And I can't say it's what you know,**

**but you've known it the whole time, ****yeah, you've known it the whole time."**

**What You Know | Two Door Cinema Club**

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><p><strong>Drabble # 2 (of 10) | The Ex<strong>

Darkness was in full swing, the moon hanging over Mystic Falls like a giant spotlight. It cast a murky shadow over everything, the woods morphing from their once colourful vibrance to black and white and grey. Owls sang their annoying songs, flying overhead and landing noisily on tree branches, awakening the entire mouse population so the bird could gather its food.

It was the natural occurrence of things; the hierarchy of living. Predator versus prey.

Being in the woods, when light sprinkled through the trees and snakes slithered underfoot, their cool bellies crinkling yellowed leaves, reminded Caroline that the vampire community was not dissimilar to the other creatures that haunted her world. When time began there was a simple food chain and the entirety of the planet was forced into following its rules. The hawk devoured the copperhead to shreds, the copperhead swallowed the mouse whole, the mouse nibbled the cricket between its small, sharp teeth, and the cricket finished it all off by gargling the decaying plant. All living things did it, they all stole from another to survive. Even trees sucked the daylight out of soil. And creatures had a habit of turning on their own kind, their weaker or dying kind, when they were desperate and when their predatory instincts kicked in.

Caroline needed to remember this because if she didn't, she only ended up fearing herself. She only ended up fearing what she had become: another predator. Vampires were just trying to survive, that's why they took other people's lives away from them. She needed blood to thrive, so she took it. Less cruelly and forcefully than most vampires, but she still used her high position on the food chain to resist death, just like the hawk. She just wanted to live.

Idly, she thought of Klaus as she neared _that tree_.

A thousand years old, a monster. That's what he was. He killed for fun, because it was all a game to him. It wasn't about survival with him. Klaus possessed no heart. No moral, no little tingling sensation at the back of his neck telling him that he was evil. He was a terrible thing.

They were all the same excuses. Caroline had memorised them the night she got back from her time with the demonic hybrid. She'd laid in bed, unable to sleep, images of _him _continuously pouring into her head_._ And not the 'him' she was supposed to see, the one all her friends saw, but the sweet, lonely, romantic guy that had quite carelessly swept her off her dainty feet.

One week.

One long week since Klaus shimmied his way into her pants. Caroline couldn't tell if it was relief biting at her bones or lust.

Seven days and six nights.

Long nights full of tossing and turning and returning to that blissful, sinful moment. Every cry and feeling and emotion torturing her, filling her with utmost regret. Regret for doing it, for giving into temptation and jumping ahead of herself, and regret for making herself miserable because now she could never do it again.

Maybe, just maybe, she could. If Caroline called Klaus's name, he'd be next to her in an instant. If she sounded desperate enough, in enough pain, then he would break his word. Her throat tried opening up several times as she slashed around in her bed, her underwear being twisted by her itching hands, but she held her tongue. She had to.

She was a stubborn bitch and she hated Klaus. Or at least, that's what she told herself.

In reality, Caroline was afraid. Of everything. Because now. . .now she really knew Klaus would never return. Never grace the wooded areas surrounding Mystic Falls. Never see her again.

Those were the thoughts that haunted her, that crept into her dreams and throttled her waking hours. When she had her emotions regarding the Original vampire stored away, Klaus would leave town often, swearing never to come back, promising that he was done with the smallness of this place. And every time he sauntered off into the sunset, Caroline knew deep within her brain that he'd be returning.

As she stood underneath the hollowness of night, nothing gnawed in her belly telling her Klaus was coming back. He was gone for good.

Replaying the words he used before she'd "confessed" to him, Caroline could hear the sincerity and desperation in his voice when he swore he would leave. He was intent on keeping the promise for _one time _with her, one moment of honesty and loyalty and lost love.

What was that Oscar Wilde quote? "The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it,"? Yeah, that was it. Was that what she was doing when she let Klaus literally rip the clothes off her back? Was she trying to waver her temptation? If so, she'd done a hell of a job. Now she spent every night in the woods, her feet always finding that fucking tree.

As she stared at it now, she could almost feel her back scraping against it, her soft flesh being torn. She still had some of the marks, the tiny reminders that she'd been foolish for thinking that both: one sexcapade with Klaus Mikaelson would be enough to squash her feelings for him and also for giving herself up in the first place. Now she had constant guilt stepping on her back like a giant. Every time she'd seen Tyler this week, she'd flinched away from him, avoiding looking him in the eye. No one else knew her sorrow, her absolute frustration. Not least because no one could be trusted with the information. She didn't exactly feel comfortable admitting to everyone that she'd jumped Klaus's bones. But it also felt like a private thing, a secret shared between just two people. No part of her wanted to spill the dirty details to her friends like she used to with other guys.

Tears began welling in her eyes and she condemned herself, the hot liquid splashing to the ground, her vampiric hearing catching every droplet as it hit broken leaves. As she paid attention to the way her belly twisted around itself in agony, she missed the crunching sounds coming from behind her. It wasn't until she heard her name that she whipped around, startled by the intruder and ready, in that vulnerable moment, to snap the neck of whoever it was without thinking of the consequences.

"Caroline?" It said her name again. Her name was an old word on the shadow's lips. She knew this person. The figure stepped closer to her and she stood still, poised and ready for anything. When it took the final few feet to get to her, she recognised the person.

"Tyler?" Her body relaxed immensely as she saw him advance. And then tensed right back up.

He nodded his head. "What are you doing in the woods so late at night?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Caroline swiped at her eyes, sniffling a little bit.

"Full moon." His finger pointed up, Caroline's head followed its trail toward the sky. Up there, between the slits of branches, the moon gleamed a perfect circle.

"Oh," she sighed, feeling foolish.

Tyler smiled a little bit and took an extra step in Caroline's general direction. She looked up at saw his ghostly pale face, the hard lines of his cheek bones cut off dramatically by the moon's beams. "Now you tell me why you're here."

Searching for a reasonable answer, Caroline thought for a moment about telling him. Everything. The words were on the tip of her tongue, just waiting to tumble out in waves of bitterness and betrayal. A part of her wanted to flaunt the whole thing in his face. What a stab to the heart, eh? Sleeping with his mortal enemy. But she didn't sleep with Klaus because Tyler would be upset by it. Hell, he'd probably be tempted to kill her for it and she couldn't find it in herself to give a single fuck. She did it for herself.

"And hey," Tyler spoke again, snapping Caroline's darkening thoughts. "Why've you been avoiding me?" He raised his eyebrows, a hurt smile playing on his lips. Caroline stared blankly. "Don't try to deny it, Care. I know you and you've been avoiding me," he declared.

_Damn him. _Caroline spat in her head. She choked for an explanation, "I—you—me. . ." she trailed off, looking up at the moon and cursing its existence. "The breakup!" She half-shouted, her hand slapping over her mouth.

Tyler eyed her curiously, looking like someone just kicked his dog. _Ha. _She supposed she sounded a bit too happy about her answer.

Clearing her throat, she snapped a twig and peered up at him through her eyelashes, "I mean, it's just been riding on me. You know, the anger at you for leaving our fairly long relationship, which was already hanging out the window of a fifty thousand story building, all because of your quest for revenge. It, surprisingly, hasn't died out in just a couple weeks. Sorry for sparing you from my wrath."

"Oh," Tyler said quietly, a rush of cold air brushing over them. "That makes sense, actually. Sorry." He sounded sad. But it was his decision. He was the one who turned his back on her as she cried out for him.

A part of her, one that still held love for Tyler, pulled at her chest. She wanted to forget Klaus and run to Tyler, jump in his arms and live happily ever after. Then she looked at the tree again and her body got warm and her thoughts got sad and Tyler was momentarily forgotten until he cleared his throat.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" He questioned, shy almost.

Caroline scoffed, the sound barely moving past the knot in her throat. "No thank you, Tyler. When I want you to start walking me places again, I'll find you, but for the moment, could you spare me the guilt-ridden glances? You were the one who walked away, not me. I begged you to stay, so you can't look at me now like you're sorry about it because I just don't care right now. I'm too numb from it all. From how you so nonchalantly threw me away for Klaus." Saying the name felt like fire on her lips and she stopped talking immediately, a fresh wave of tears building up in her eyes. Why was everything so screwed up?

"Care—" Tyler began, but Caroline cut him off, holding a hand up and flashing before his body. She could feel the heat from his body as it met her clothing, soaking through and touching her cold skin.

"No, you do not get to call me that right now. Give me time, Tyler. Give me time."

His breath hit her face in bloody swirls of smoke. He'd fed before he found her. Stumbling a bit, he moved back, his arms up in submission. "Okay, okay. Sorry."

"It's okay," she breathed, swallowing back the wetness clouding her vision.

"You know I still care about you, Caroline," he whispered. Caroline moved her eyes to his face, an eyebrow quirked in slow anger. "But I can't let him get away with it."

Caroline fought hard to bite back her harsh reply, letting the words simmer in her throat, tantalizing her tongue. They stood in silence for a time, hearing the owls screech and the mice squeak.

Snakes broke leaves and crickets chirped.

When she finally allowed herself to speak, she was final, "You know, I read somewhere that anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." The vampire approached the shaking hybrid with careful footfalls, pressing her feet squarely into the ground before picking them back up again. She stopped when their eyes met and she could once again feel the heat radiating from his skin. "If you keep this up, this whole chasing the stupid Original, that anger will eventually eat away at you so badly that your whole body will just start ripping at itself like acid. And then you'll be dead with nothing to your name except some foolish, obsessive game. Because I know he won't kill you," she paused, for dramatic effect more than anything. "And I am _positive_ you won't get the opportunity to kill him."

Turning on her heel, Caroline's hair blew behind her as she ran with vampire speed out of the woods. No longer able to hear Tyler's heartbeat, Caroline took a breath and crumpled to the floor. Emotions poured through her veins like blood, dancing from one feeling to another like they were frogs hopping from lily pad to lily pad. They had been stored within her for days, weeks, and she had been doing so well, keeping herself wrapped up tight. But seeing Tyler, hearing him talk to her about why he left her, about how he still had feelings for her but couldn't act on them because he was too selfish and bitter, made the volcano erupt.

She was angry at Klaus for making her feel things she didn't have any right to feel, she was pissed at Tyler for just about everything. Even her friends stood as unstable ground. Nothing was right inside of her.

.1.

"_So you mean it?" She'd asked him, confidence sliding around her words, slipping through the consonances and vowels. He'd quirked an eyebrow as he retrieved his shirt and pulled it quickly over his naked upper body. She tried not to whimper at the loss of skin. "About never coming back?" She clarified. _

"_Ah," he murmured, sliding his arms through the holes of his jacket and straightening the fabric. He walked to her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look in his eyes. They were still black with desire and a sorrow she would never understand. "I mean it." _

_She had swallowed, biting back the battling feelings inside her belly. "Good," she whispered as his head got closer to hers. His breath sighed over her and she started breathing his air, tasting him on her tongue. _

_Against her better judgement she shut her eyes, her mouth beginning to tingle in anticipation of the kiss. But it never came. _

_With a hushed 'goodbye' that already sounded miles away, Caroline felt the hand drop from her chin and a whoosh of air that blew her ripped shirt open. _

_She opened her eyes, searching for him, knowing he would be halfway across the world by then. A stone dropped in her heart, weighing her down. _

_She'd confessed. And now she felt like she'd been chained up for her crime. _

.1.

That moment, when a girl and her tortured beast tossed inhibition to the leaf-ridden ground and let their souls, their bodies, entwine with rough tenderness, would forever remain a locked piece of history that belonged solely to Caroline. It wasn't Klaus's or Tyler's or Elena's; it was hers. And all the rippling sensations, all the brokenness and sweet pants of promises, all the forgotten, careless words of devotion spilled when their blood ran too hot—she would drag it all to her grave, never giving anyone else the pleasure of knowing that she was the only person in history to so capture the darkened soul of Niklaus Mikaelson.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: **_Can I open my eyes now? Was this all taken well? I know someone out there is wondering why I seem to write everything with so much "feeling", like no one can just get a break and be happy, and that's because I really don't think the characters on this show are ever just happy. It's all darkness and sorrow mixed with a little lust and love. _

_So, yeah. I know that's probably not how it would have happened at all had she chosen not to tell Tyler, but eh, I claim artistic license. _

_I've decided these suckers'll come out on Friday's, so you have the next few Friday's (provided you actually want more and enjoy them) to look forward to getting the little drabble/one-shots. Two Door Cinema Club's song was inspiration for this, so if you wanna check them out, go ahead._

_Up next . . . **Caroline and Klaus share a phone call. He may have promised to stay away, but he never said anything about not using modern technology . . .**_

_Two down, eight to go!_

_-LoveIsATemple_


	3. Phone Calls From the Devil

**A/N 1: **_Okay, here we go once again! _

_I want to thank everyone who's favourited, followed, reviewed, or even just read this. It makes my soul happy and my days easier to live through._

_Fair warning, this one is full of angst. I'm sorry if you don't like that. Also, it's kind of a lot longer than I originally planned. I'm, again, kinda nervous. I spent forever trying to fix this, but I'm still not sure it's all that great. The ending's a bit weird for me, but if you like it, then that's all that matters. _

_If you do end up enjoying this, and if you feel like doing all the liking and reviewing, then go ahead and I thank you ahead of time. You're all great and perfect and I wish I could say more than a million thank you's. _

_Number three: **Klaus calls Caroline.** Ooh, exciting stuff. . ._

**_DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING._**

_Please enjoy and I'll see you down at the bottom!_

* * *

><p><strong>"You say, love is a temple, love a higher law,<strong>

**Love is a temple, love the higher law.**

**You ask me to enter, and then you make me crawl,**

**And I can't be holding on to what you got**

**When all you got is hurt.**

**One love, one blood, **

**One life, you've got to do what you should."**

**One | U2**

* * *

><p><strong>Drabble # 3 (of 10) | Phone Calls From the Devil<strong>

The undead don't need to breathe. Human food does not give them the same sustenance as it did before their hearts stopped beating. Sleep is not a requirement when you have your whole life to be awake. And yet, all the undead carry out these unnecessary tasks out of habit, or desperation to return to their once human souls.

Caroline breathed and slept and ate, and she enjoyed it. It made her feel normal; forced her to forget that in a few hours, she'd be sucking blood stolen from a hospital.

Because that was what she desired. Normalcy. That was why she was lying in bed inside an empty dorm room on a Friday night, reading a textbook that she spent way too much money on for a class she'd be able to take again and again due to the whole 'living for eternity' side effect of being smothered to death by a crazy bitch on a revenge streak.

Did she need to take a course on the "History and Appreciation of Art"? No, but she could do whatever she wanted. So what if it involved not being out with her friends on a Friday night at some college party. Who wanted to get drunk and have a good time anyway? Definitely not her.

Okay, so maybe she was torturing herself. She liked to do that from time to time. It was a good reminder that she was an idiot. A cold, heartless idiot who took too much time every other day when she wasn't torturing herself remembering what it felt like to be slammed against a tree and kissed like the word was ending.

No one else knew why Caroline sulked once a month, but they weren't about to ask. She often thought the textbook would give it away (she had never shown an interest in art before), but she supposed her friends never were the wisest bunch when it came to her. She could probably jump up and down with a glowing sign that read "I'm Obsessing Over Something Really Stupid I Did That Happened More Than Four Months Ago. Ask Me About It!" and they'd ignore, ignore, ignore.

Using long, slender fingers, she slid the thick pages of her textbook over and over until she found the Surrealism movement. Her eyes scanned the pages describing various surrealists and what their goals were when it came to art. Caroline thought most of the paintings looked like the artists had been high on acid when drawn and slathered in paint, but she supposed they held a particular charm.

She read that the aim of surrealism was to dig deep into the unconscious and subconscious by painting dreams. Artists like René Magritte disassociated the natural way of things to capture the spontaneity of a repressed mind. Apparently that meant painting butterflies on windmills and French horns on elephants.

_Is my work really that literal? _

Caroline's eyes snapped up from the page she was reading and held her breath. She gulped and moved her head from side to side, taking in the room and checking to make sure everything was in order.

Wind whistled through the slightly open window, blowing the silky curtains out and washing her warm body in cool air. The fish tank she'd insisted on buying a couple of months back still had two bleeding heart tetra's swimming through the fake, plastic trees the pet shop assistant convinced her they needed. Nothing was out of place. She was safe.

The vampires on campus had been lucky for the past few months. All supernatural beings must've had a ruling that voted on leaving them alone and Caroline couldn't have been happier. She was done stressing about it all; whether or not she'd live to see the sunrise or even go to sleep at night. University was hard enough as it was without adding monsters and aliens and sasquatch to the mix.

_It won't be enough for you. _

A loud echoey bang resonated through the room as she jumped out of bed. The large textbook she'd been flitting through landed squarely on her big toe and she bit back a cry. Falling out of its ponytail, her blonde hair cascaded over her face, blocking the world from view. With a frustrated sigh, she ignored the throbbing in her foot and moved to pin her hair back up.

"Seriously, Caroline. You need to stop this. He's not here," she chastised aloud, letting her voice startle the wind away.

What did he know about her anyway? Nothing. He knew nothing. She hated the constant worrying. She wanted to be a typical college freshman and as far as she was concerned, typical college freshman didn't fight otherworldly animals dead set on destroying the world. She was made for real life, not the vampiric one written about in God-awful romance novels and horrible sci-fi stories.

A small town life was all she desired. He _didn't know her_.

She puffed out an aggravated breath and limped over to her fish tank.

Shaky hands picked up the bag of pink bloodworms, cracking the seal and scooping up a handful. Reaching over the tank's open top, the young vampire ignored the disgusting texture of the worms and let them fall through the cracks in her fingers.

Crouching down she watched her bleeding heart tetra's destroy the small, writhing animals. Blood from the worms sprinkled out in the water like small clouds of red smoke. It looked almost beautiful.

In the back of her mind, she thought she could hear her phone ringing. With all the "voices" speaking to her at the moment though, she doubted it actually was going off. Regardless, she walked away from the bloody fish tank with an aching toe and shuffled her duvet until her phone tumbled to the ground.

She observed it momentarily, a warm feeling swarming in her belly.

It called to her, the phone, like a siren's song, and she had no fear, no panting second thoughts, before she swiped at the screen and lifted it to her ear. Her undead heart beat raggedly against her ribs and she sucked in a breath.

"Hello?"

* * *

><p>"Why do you keep staring at that phone?" Brown hair whipped across his face and he choked back the desire to rip it off the werewolf's head.<p>

"Not now, Haley," he warned, his eyes not leaving the mobile.

The burner phone he'd purchased just that morning sat in front of him on the table. It laughed at him.

"I'm serious, Nikki, what's all this pouting about?" A hand slid through his hair and he closed his eyes against the feelings it stirred.

He ripped his head forward, plastering his eyes open and balling his fists by his sides until he felt bone poke his skin. "I'm not going to ask twice."

An unattractive laugh danced around his ears, "you didn't exactly ask the first time."

"You're right," he smiled. "I told. It'd be best for you if you listened."

"You don't scare me."

"But I should."

"Fine, I'll take the hint. I need some food anyway. This baby's really demanding," he heard her footsteps disappear, but her voice still spoke. "Hey, I guess it really _is _yours."

"Hilarious, Haley," he growled, still refusing to take his eyes off the burner phone.

One call, that's what it said on the sticky label. The phone could make one call and then it'd fizzle out and die. He felt an odd kinship with the device. It reminded him of his situation. He'd been so alive back in Mystic Falls with her there, touching him and needing him. And then it was over, and after the smile faded, so did he.

Niklaus Mikaelson was not one to dwell on the past unless it provided him instant satisfaction or helped fuel a war, but something was digging at his brain and would not relent. He'd promised, it's true, and he rarely went back on promises, but this was something he could not control and had no power to contain. The memories came at him in surges of lust and reprimand; conflicting emotions that tousled his poor brain, keeping him up at night and constantly ribbing at him to _do something _about it. To let it go once for and all.

Which, if he thought about it, was something he didn't truly want to do. He didn't want to forget and move on. What he wanted to do was foolishly parade back into the blonde vampire's life and steal her breath away. Take her to New Orleans and force her to stay with him through it all just so he could have constant access to that neck and those legs and _her. _

Entirely selfish, but Klaus was nothing if not selfish. And foolish.

He drowned out the sound of Haley munching on some disgusting sugar-infused snack and unclenched his fists, goading his arms on the table and carefully picking up the cold phone. He held it between his thumb and forefinger delicately as if it would snap in such a light hold. With a racing mind, he flipped the phone open and stared at it for a few more seconds, trying to remember why he was doing this to himself.

At a thousand years of age, one would place the probability that their minds could be controlled by a single person at impossible. He thought it was fact for years and years until he stumbled across the silky blonde vampire. For someone who'd been around forever, the whirlwind of feelings that overcrowded his entire being and could not be turned off like so many other emotions caught him off guard. It tore at him until he finally relented and gave up on getting rid of his affection.

Giving himself no more time to dwell on the past or worry about the future, Klaus pressed buttons, a high pitched beep going off every time his finger sunk into one of the numbers. Tentatively, he held his thumb over the "CALL" button, watching it go in and out of focus.

"What the hell," he mumbled, sucking up his fears and compressing the button.

He heard the ringing before he lifted the phone to his ear. His blood started boiling. In his head all he could see was blonde hair and blue eyes and perfect lips and fleshy breasts.

What would she say? Would she yell and squeal and cry? Would she beg him?

He'd built an empire around himself in the years since he'd been created. Wars and armies and servants, all his. He could conquer the world if he so desired.

And that empire, that power, crumbled to dust at the sound of her scratched voice.

"Hello?"

His eyes widened.

He didn't say anything. He couldn't form any coherent thoughts. All he could remember was her and the way it felt to touch and kiss and love her.

A fool; God, he was a fool. A fool for allowing this to happen, for allowing such a small thing to get in his head and _ruin everything. _Ruin all he had built.

He knew nothing of love except her, and she wanted nothing more to do with him.

_So, _he thought again, _why am I doing this?_

"Is this a prank call?" She asked, a shiver in her voice.

_Ah, _he sighed almost out loud, _that's why. _

A smirk pulled at his lips and he leapt up from the table, escaping the house and running deep into the woods away from the prying ears of his fellow company. He stopped when he came to a distant lake, watching the water glisten and ripple. Fish swam underneath the blanket of crashing water, unaware of the heron placed diligently a few yards from them, waiting for its prey like all good hunters do.

"Seriously, I'm gonna to hang up if you don't say something."

_Seriously. _She used that word too much.

He loved it.

He rushed through a million different openings. Funny, classic, sexy, smooth, cliché. What would get her blood pumping and her soul sighing?

His smirk spread into an all out grin that he could bet would be evident in his greeting, but he couldn't care less.

"Hello, Caroline."

* * *

><p>If time could freeze, it would've come to a standstill just then.<p>

She would recognise that voice anywhere. The deep, thick accent and utterly sexy drip of a long forgotten lisp. Her belly coiled tight with sickening want and uncontrollable anger.

She opened her mouth to scream.

All that came out was lost air.

"I figured that would be your reaction."

She could hear the smile on his face. She wanted desperately to smack it off. Damn her small arms. Why could she not live in _The Incredibles _universe and be Elastigirl?

"Not happy to hear from me?" He asked innocently, his words crackling through the phone.

Still, her brain refused to move her mouth.

"I could do both sides of this conversation, sweetheart, but I'd rather you fill in some spots here and there. My Caroline impression is rather rusty."

Something burst inside of her when he said her name. Maybe it was her heart. . .or her. . .spleen?

Whatever it was tugged her vocal chords, yanked at them, spreading her lips wide and slackening her jaw.

The coil sprung loose.

"What the fuck? What the. Actual. Fuck? Why the hell are you calling me? Where's that promise that you'd never contact me again? Ugh, God, why are you doing this to me? I've been fine without you, fine. Absolutely, positively fine. Why are you calling? How'd you even get this number? Wait, I don't really want to know the answer to that. Is this for phone sex, because I swear I'm not doing that. Goddammit, Klaus—"

"Caroline, Caroline. Stop talking, please. My ears are very sensitive." His words were full of unsung laughter. She hoped it hurt to hold back.

She frowned, stomping her foot, forgetting for a moment that Klaus was speaking to her when a shocking pain spread up her leg and into her stomach. She whimpered.

"Caroline? Are you hurt?" All the giggles and smiles were gone, genuine concern taking their place.

"You gonna swoop in and save me?" She asked through clenched teeth.

"What happened?"

Caroline sighed and sat down on her bed, still fuming. "I dropped my fucking textbook on my toe."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh. Not that exciting."

The hair hanging behind her started coming loose and several wisps fell into her face. She blew them away with warm puffs of breath.

Her brain hurt. Why on earth was he calling her five months after the fact? What did it prove? She was slowly melting from all the inner turmoil.

"I'm sorry," he offered a few seconds later.

"Not your fault," she said, arching an eyebrow. _Except that's a lie. Because it is your fault. Or at least my memory of you. _

"I wish I could take the pain away."

Caroline paused, taking in his words. His declaration, really. Klaus sounded so broken. But he was old and had probably taken a few acting classes through the ages.

He got what he wanted from her, so what was the point?

"Well, you can't," she whispered, suddenly afraid that her words would bend and break with too much pressure.

"Wishing is futile, isn't it?" His voice dropped to a soft cry, a whimper if nothing more.

Letting her brain focus before opening her mouth, Caroline replied with equal softness, "I guess it kind of is, yeah."

She heard him groan and could imagine him running a calloused hand down his face, stopping to play his scruff. "_Why did I phone you_?" He asked, but she could tell it was a question for himself.

"Because you like torturing yourself," she offered, attempting for it to come out as a playful jab; it sounded more like a cry for help.

"Do you often partake in such activities?"

She drew in a lazy breath and rolled her eyes. "All the time."

"Why do you insist on hurting yourself?"

Caroline got up from the bed and started pacing around, letting her free hand flail. "Because," she squeaked, ripping her hair tie free and slinking her hands through her loose curls. "Because it's easier than moving on."

"Easier?" He inquired curiously.

She blushed, a mix of anger and shame and embarrassment. "Yeah. So much easier."

"How so?" His words sounded like they were sitting on the edge of a very uncomfortable seat, just waiting to jump up and scram.

"Why are you calling me?" She murmured, defeated.

"Why haven't you hung up?"

_Because I don't want to! _She wanted to scream. The words were on the tip of her tongue, burning her taste buds with the sweet memory of his lips.

"Well, I can tell you why I called you," he continued, not allowing her a chance to speak. She rolled her eyes painfully. "I miss you, Caroline. And I think the only way I'll be able to say this is over the phone, so I'm saying it. I'm old; so, so old. I've seen the worst people thrive and the best people die. My eyes have witnessed the rise and fall of civilisations. I have touched every woman known to humanity and used them all the same. But you, love. . .you twisted me. Twisted me until I could no longer stand straight. And here I am, far away from you, missing you. Wanting you. Wishing I could turn back time and collapse into you."

Caroline was struck dumb, her mind fizzing as if someone had poured pop rocks in her head and turned on the water full blast. Every thought crackled in her ears.

"What—what can I say to that, Klaus?" She breathed, her eyebrows dropping over her eyes.

She could hear him thinking, hear the _tick tick tick _of the wheels in his head as they spun, connecting consonants and vowels together into words and words into sentences and sentences into feelings. "You can say whatever you want, love. Nothing is off limits. In fact, you could yell at me for the next hundred years through this phone and I'd be happy just to hear your voice."

Letting out a half cry/half laugh, Caroline stopped pacing and stood in front of her fish tank. They'd finished eating their worms, but there was still a slight red tinge in the water. Her bleeding heart tetras were surrounded by blood, by death. She saw the similarities between her and Klaus and the fish clearly for the first time.

Klaus and Caroline were poison to one another, constantly beating at the other's heart. Their worlds clashed entirely, and yet they couldn't stay away. It was an impossibility; one that would surely kill them both.

"Klaus," she murmured, falling to the floor and watching the room fuzz over as her eyes filled with tears.

"Caroline."

"What do we do?" She asked, swallowing the lump in the throat and wincing. Everything hurt.

"You remember what I told you?" He sounded like he was crying.

"You've said a lot of things to me," she gasped, swallowing back a sob.

"Ha. I have, haven't I?" She nodded, knowing he couldn't see her. "When you graduated, Caroline. Do you remember?"

"How could I forget?" She asked with a distressed laugh.

"Then keep on remembering. We have forever, love. Let's not waste it."

Caroline tasted salt when she opened her mouth. "We don't have forever, Klaus. You're bound to move on, leave me behind."

"No, _no_," there was a harshness to his words, an almost frightened contortion. "You are it. I've been alive for over a thousand years. I _know_ this is it."

"How can you know that?" It came out like a whine and she flinched. Just earlier she was telling herself to forget him. Why was he so hard to let go of?

"Because when you're me, when you've witnessed all I've witnessed. . .When you've been dead for as long as I have, you _know _these things."

"And there's not a part of you that thinks this is all just a little too surreal?"

"How do you mean?" He asked solemnly.

"You're a thousand years old, Klaus," she squealed quietly. "I'm just. . .me."

"You are Caroline Forbes, Miss Mystic Falls. The most fantastical, wonderful woman—nay, person—I've ever met. Do you not believe me? Am I not being sincere enough?" His voice rose with every word, filling her with that sickening need.

"What about me? I still have a life to live. What if I move on. What would you do then?"

She heard him take in a breath and then heard him hold it.

"I'd wait." He said finally, sounding certain.

Caroline laughed sardonically. "You're so sure I'm yours, huh? So positive I could never want someone as much as I want you?"

"You still want me?"

"Oh, get real, Klaus!" She moaned.

"Caroline, I've been around the world enough times to know what a soulmate is."

Caroline felt her heart break.

He was doing it, making her bleed.

Pressing a hand to her forehead, she unsuccessfully tried to stop crying. "Gah, when did we turn into some crappy romance novel?" She mumbled.

"Where do you think all those authors got their inspiration?"

"Most of them have never even been kissed. Let alone seen a naked man. Let alone been in mutual love."

"You're too cynical. You need to broaden your perspective."

"I'm too cynical? Says the most cynical, untrusting, son of a bitch that ever roamed the dark streets at midnight?"

"You make me less cynical, Caroline."

The worst part about him saying that—whispering that—was he actually believed his own words. And she found herself believing him too.

She laid back, letting her head roll on the ground, and listened to him breathe.

"You're in New Orleans with a pregnant werewolf," she reminded him halfheartedly.

"Details."

She laughed, a stupid sound that came out more like a wheeze. Her tears started dripping hotly over her ears. "I'm scared, Klaus. And you promised."

"I promised. I know I promised. I'm starting to hate myself for that."

"This would never work. My friends hate you."

"Well, I hate your friends."

"You hate everyone," she chided.

"I don't hate you."

"I don't know why."

"Neither do I," he replied honestly.

"And I don't know why I can't just hate you. Every time I try to remember how horrible you are, I just get slammed with these conflicting emotions. Hatred mixed toxically with something that's definitely _not_ hatred," she admitted. It was safer over the phone, right? When she couldn't see him, or smell him, or be forced to witness his addicting smile. Or watch his tears slide down his beautiful, stubbly cheeks.

"I could never put a name on the feeling, either."

He was so sad. She was so sad.

They were a mess. They could never be clean.

"Do you think that maybe we're some form of sick experiment? Like, our creator, whoever that may be, is staring at us right now laughing or crying or shaking its head?"

"Do explain, dear Caroline," he sighed.

"I mean, what if we were built with these timers or something when we were born at our respective times and they were set to go off when we met and instil within us this overwhelming connection that neither of us could ignore? The villain and the untainted—the classic romance. But, like, ten billion times worse and more powerful." She bit her lip, waiting for a response. With every ticking second, she felt more and more idiotic. _What is wrong with me?_

"Perhaps," he mused. "But I don't care."

"But it hurts so much," she sobbed, covering her eyes and feeling a waterfall of tears drip into her hair.

"I know."

"It's so cruel. Why, Klaus? Why me? Why _us?_" She gasped through her bitter cries.

"Because you're right, love. We were meant for this. It was written in our stars."

"Dear Brutus, am I right?" She coughed, an acidic taste souring her tongue.

"You know _Julius Caesar_?" He sounded surprised. Wounded and surprised.

"I did go to high school, yeah."

"Well, you never know. You would've loved Shakespeare, Caroline," he exhaled wistfully.

"You say that all the time about all these different people. I'm starting to wish time travel existed."

Klaus choked on a laugh. "I'd take you wherever you wanted, love."

There was another silence. It held them captive.

"You chose me," Caroline said softly when the stillness became too much. She crept back up into a sitting position and sniffled.

"What?"

"I—you could've killed me. You should've killed me. But you chose me instead."

"I chose you?"

"You made me."

"Technically, yes. I am an Original."

Caroline chuckled sorely. "You're an ass, is what you are. But that's not the point." She breathed out, willing her breath to reach wherever he was. "You picked me."

"That's what I've been saying," he remarked cautiously, stretching the statement out.

She started breathing heavily. Placing a hand against her heart, she saw the room spin. "Break your promise, Klaus." She begged, not caring how pathetic she sounded.

"What?" He coughed.

"You know, for a really old guy with supposedly perfect hearing, you have sucky hearing."

He laughed. It was innocent and vulnerable. "You're telling me to break my promise?" Hope and disbelief entwined in his words.

"Yes," she mewled with a broken smile. "But not now," she added breathlessly. "Not now. We're going to live forever, right?"

"Right. . ."

"Then find me."

"Find you? When?" He rushed through the words like they were getting lost on his tongue.

"Whenever you decide the time is right." Tears had started welling again. She blinked and they fell like venom in her lap.

"Are you choosing me, Caroline?" He demanded in the only way he knew how.

"I'm waiting for you," she countered.

"You're a riddle, sweetheart."

"And you," she hummed, "have eternity to solve me."

There was a pregnant pause filled with unspoken declarations of devotion and unsung heroes. Then there was a sigh. A regretful sigh that sunk Caroline's bleeding heart.

"It hurts," Klaus whimpered. The beast, the tortured and neglected man. So obsessed, so ruined.

"But it doesn't have to hurt forever," Caroline puled feebly.

"Ah, but it will. For when I am with you, dear Caroline, my soul hurts as if it's being stabbed with all different assortments of weapons. It's almost more painful than when I'm without you."

Her face fell. It melted.

"Mm," he spoke again, interrupting her self-destruction. "But it's the sweetest hurt I've ever known."

"Will you, then? Find me?" She asked, chewing her lip viciously. She tasted blood.

The laugh he released vibrated through her. "Someday."

It wasn't much. It was one word. But it was another promise. A hidden one only for her.

"Someday." She agreed faintly, the word burning her lungs.

Caroline heard the line go dead and then felt her heart die alongside it. But inside of her a flicker of flame lit up, waiting for the lighter fluid, the explosion.

There was no goodbye. No 'i love you and can't live without you.'

Neither of them knew what any of those things meant. Him even less than her.

She held the phone to her head until she couldn't feel her ear anymore. And when she dropped the phone, it clunked to the ground with a shattering bang. The screen split and the world she'd created on the mobile disappeared.

Her friends didn't come back that night and she barely noticed. The darkness blew up into sunshine and birds and warm breeze and Caroline didn't flinch, her body rigid with helplessness.

Klaus had called her. He'd been torn and laid out in a defenceless mess. She'd cried. She'd told him to find her.

With a sigh, one that sounded both lonely and hopeful, she shook off her feelings, letting them fall around her in an invisible vail, and gathered her forgotten textbook.

Her toe didn't hurt anymore, she realised with a slow smile.

Using her wobbly legs, tired from the emotions, Caroline sat down on her bed with her textbook, watching the light cast dirty shadows in her room. She laughed at the sight and started thumbing through the book, her eyes skimming over various artists and their works.

There's that cliche, 'I will love you forever.'

Forever is a long time. Forever is. . .well, it's _forever. _Who has forever to be in love someone? Klaus probably didn't. Caroline almost certainly didn't.

And maybe they were fooling themselves, pretending that it could work just to save their selfish pride. To prove that they were stubborn and would stick together out of sheer determination to avoid the shame of being wrong.

But perhaps they were meant for this. For all the pain and suffering and turmoil. Because in the end, love prevailed over all. Love conquered all. Love: the virus, the killing machine. It drove men to insanity and then brought them back to life. It was never perfect, there was never a formula. It just was.

And they, Klaus and Caroline. . .they just _were_.

They were jumbled and confusing and frustrating, but there was no way to stop it, to stop them.

No rules, no boundaries, no formula.

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars," Caroline crooned, her eyes catching sight of Vincent Van Gogh's _The Starry Night _"but in ourselves."

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><p><strong>AN 2: **_Woo, that was an emotional journey and a half, am I right? _

_Alright, what did you think? Was the ending weird for you too? I promise I wasn't stealing from John Green! I love that quote and have always wanted to use it in a story and then BAM I got the perfect opportunity. Also, I don't agree with it. Well, not one hundred percent. I think bad things happen and good things happen and we don't have much to do with it. It's just life. So, Caroline and Klaus, they're in the stars, not themselves. . .If that makes any sense. . ._

_I always seem to get into a fandom just as all the fans start dying off and everyone seems to be freaking out right now because maybe Klaroline isn't actually endgame. What do you all think? This is just me being curious. Will you all still come to fan fiction to get your Klaroline fix if the couple doesn't work out? Even though they're kind of immortal and even when the show ends, they have the entirety of creation to find each other (provided neither of them die. But then there's always resurrection). I ask because I've started developing an actual fic for these guys with plot and stuff, so I want to know if it would be worthless by the time I actually get it out._

_Oh, I just realised the acronym for this story is FATS. Rise up and tell your friends._

_And lastly, the song for this "chapter" is my favourite U2 song (hence my username) and you really just need to listen to it. I think it matches up with this one-shot really well._

_I'm sorry if you didn't like it, by the way. I know I can't please everyone, but I always wish I could. Maybe the next one will be more attuned to your tastes._

_See ya next Friday! __Three down, seven to go!_

_-LoveIsATemple_


	4. Hypothetically Speaking

**A/N: 1: **_Goodness it's late. Or early. Whichever way you want to look at it. I had this written and edited, so I thought I'd just give it to you now instead of waiting until the proper morning. _

_Thank you all so, so much for the positive feedback! It's a wonderful, rewarding feeling knowing there are people out there enjoying this. Keep up the fantastic work at being utterly fantastic people! You make my heart sing. Over sixty followers! That figuratively blows my mind. This is the greatest fandom of all time, I'm sure of it. _

_This one's a lot shorter and much more drabble-y than the others. It's less __angst-ridden and a little more easygoing. I think I just needed to write something that didn't make me want to rip my hair out from tension. _

_I hope you all enjoy the next instalment of "Forget About the Sunshine" in which **Caroline talks to Matt about her time with Klaus. **How's he going to react?. . ._

**_Disclaimer: I do not own a thing. Although, I do own all the Vampire Diaries books. So, does that count as anything?_**

_Have fun with this one and I'll meet you when it's done! _

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><p><strong>"<strong>**If Diane Young won't change your mind,**

**Baby, baby, baby, baby right on time."**

**Diane Young | Vampire Weekend (_Modern Vampires of the City)_**

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><p><strong>Drabble #4 (of 10) | Hypothetically Speaking. . .<strong>

Music pumped through the building, vibrating the hairs on her arms and jiggling her insides. Lights flashed all different colours, blinding her momentarily if she held her eyes open for too long. Bodies glistening with sweat brushed past her, their salty figures gliding on her skin, their energy wearing her out.

It was Mystic Grill's first Youth Night. If you were under eighteen or over thirty, Mystic Grill was not allowed to let you past their disgusting, second-hand velvet ropes.

The grill was barely recognisable. All the booths had been pushed out of the away to leave a fairly wide dance floor, and strobe lights blinked above everyone's heads. It was a mini nightclub for the small-town folk of Mystic Falls.

At eighteen years old, Caroline was wondering why she'd let Bonnie drag her here. Bonnie, of course, was nowhere in sight—probably busy dancing with Elena. Spring break usually entailed travelling and spending all day and night with your girlfriends. But no, Bonnie had convinced her to _come home_ so they could try out the Youth Night.

She was paying dearly for her decision, a skull-splitting headache knocking at her temples. And being at the grill, where there were too many grinding twenty-something's and too much bass-heavy music, was not helping at all.

Sitting at the bar seemed like a good idea. It was far enough away from the music and people. No one else appeared interested in sipping a drink and relaxing; they were all too busy trying to have sex with their clothes on. The bartender didn't bother her with conversation, simply sliding her a glass of water when she'd asked and then returning to the task at hand: mixing drinks that didn't look safe for even the most alcoholic of alcoholics to consume.

She was alone, brooding slightly at the loss of her best friend for the night, and feeling sorry for herself because she couldn't put away the A-type personality for just one evening of fun. And, of course, there was the acidic guilt corroding her intestines.

Months and months had gone by since she'd done. . .that thing with that guy who would not be named. Was she planning on telling her friends? In the beginning, yeah. Back when sleep started escaping her and the daydreams began.

When it felt like she'd been thrust into _A Nightmare on Elm Street: Hot Vampire Edition. _

But she decided against saying anything.

What would be the point? Everyone would just look down on her, and she couldn't stand the thought of her friends hating her because of one mistake. Not that she'd had success convincing herself it was a mistake quite yet. The deed still loomed in the forefront of her mind, tearing its way through her and still managing to excite her in the sickest way.

Vampire senses tingling, Caroline smelled someone, a human someone, sit next to her. Their body was warm and she detected hints of manly cologne. Familiar manly cologne. She turned her head in slight confusion, but swiped her frown when she saw who filled the empty spot.

"Matt," she hummed, opening her arms awkwardly. He met her halfway and squeezed, his muscular body protecting her from the torrid emotions swarming inside. The blonde hair atop his head tickled and she giggled loosely in his ear, tightening her grip when she felt his lips curve into a smile against her shoulder.

He pulled away first, grabbing her hands and locking their eyes. He looked worried.

"What?" She asked playfully, kinking an eyebrow and pushing their hands to his chest.

"What's wrong?" Matt countered.

Caroline started laughing, but his stony expression didn't change. He was being serious.

Her cackling stopped and she dropped her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"That was an 'I've got a secret' hug," he said through the straight line of his mouth, plopping their entwined fingers into his lap.

Caroline bunched her forehead, not caring how unattractive it looked. "How would you know that?"

"We used to date, Care. And we've been friends for a long time."

How on earth was _he _the one that saw through her thin veil of secrecy?

She cleared her throat, trying to cover up the wilt in her voice. "Well, yeah, but you know what _my hugs_ mean?"

"You speak through hugs," he stated with a delayed blink.

"I speak through my mouth."

"That too," he laughed, a little less tense but still refusing to take his eyes off of her. "Just tell me what's on your mind."

"I still don't trust how you came to the conclusion that I've got some dark secret."

Matt lowered his head so he was at eye level with Caroline. She wanted to recoil, to run away, but she would be damned if she got scared because of _Matt. _

"You might think you're difficult to read, and maybe to a lot of people you are, but I like to think I'm perceptive. Especially when it comes to you. And I never said it was dark."

Caroline debated for a moment, running through a thousand different excuses in her head and then moving on to a thousand different ways to explain what had happened.

Could she trust Matt with this?

She surveyed the young man before her closely. Creases pinched the sides of his mouth, probably due to excessive smiling. His blue eyes were bright, but concerned. Concerned for _her. _The veins in his throat pulsed out a regular beat; he wasn't nervous or angry or scared.

Opening her mouth to speak, skittish air whooshed out. Caroline watched it hit Matt's face, but he didn't flinch. "Can I raise you a hypothetical question?"

Matt bugged his baby blue eyes. "Raise me?"

Shoving their hands deep into his thighs, Caroline lifted her lips into a small smile. "Ask you. Can I ask you a hypothetical question."

"Caroline," Matt said, his tone extremely serious. Caroline moved her eyes from his to their hands. "Of course you can."

"Okay then, okay." She could do this. She could tell Matt. He would understand. And wouldn't say anything to anyone else. He was good. Always good and normal. Normal and good.

"It's me, Care. Don't look so frightened." He started trailing his thumbs against the back of her hand. She noticed how comforting it felt and told herself to relax and spit it out.

"Hypothetically speaking. . ." she began, her sentence dying midway out her mouth. Matt encouragingly bumped his forehead against hers. "Hypothetically speaking, if I told you I had scandalous, hot sex with one of the most dangerous men alive—well, not so much alive as dead—what would you say?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, eyelids threatening to snap.

"You had sex with Klaus?" Matt asked immediately, his thumbs stopping their circular motion against her skin.

She popped her eyes open, not surprised that he figured it out, and pouted. "Okay, maybe not so hypothetical. I'm such an idiot."

"Oh, Care," Matt whispered, like he couldn't get his voice to go any higher. "You're not an idiot."

Caroline watched empathy flood his features. "What's that look for?" She asked skeptically.

"I get it."

"Get what? That I had sex with our mortal enemy?"

"You didn't have sex with 'our' anything. He's not your mortal enemy, obviously."

Caroline squeezed his hands until he yanked them away. "He's supposed to be."

"Do you hear yourself, Caroline?"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "_What_, Matt?"

"He's 'supposed to be' your mortal enemy? What kind of bullshit answer is that?"

"It's not. . .it's not a bullshit answer. He's evil, Matt," she hissed, shrinking away and slamming her head on the counter.

"He's not that bad, Care." A hand gently attached itself to her back, warmth seeping through the fabric of her shirt.

"But he is. He's hurt so many people just for the hell of it. Who does that?" She asked in disbelief, moving her head so she could spy Matt. He looked down at her with the friendliest expression she'd ever seen.

"People who don't know what it feels like to be loved?" He offered with a noncommittal shrug.

"That's a stupid answer," she jeered, but couldn't help herself from silently agreeing with him.

"People who are lost, then," he tried, sliding his hand up and gripping the back of her neck. "He must be good."

Caroline raised an eyebrow in a 'try me' fashion. "Oh, yeah?"

"You fell for him. Quick and intense," Matt said easily.

Caroline choked on nothing.

He spoke the truth, of course. She had taken a pretty hard hit with Klaus. But what did it mean? Girls were always draping themselves over the bad boys. And he was the baddest. The worst kind of bad. The kind that didn't deserve redemption. Or her.

"It was one time, right?" He asked curiously.

"Just once," Caroline agreed through gritted teeth. "But God, I want to do it again."

Matt laughed, a sweet sound that goaded Caroline into joining him with breathless wheezes. She picked her head back up and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow precariously perched on the bar countertop.

"How are you so okay with all of this?" Caroline chirped, slapping Matt's bicep.

"I know what you're going through."

Caroline paused, her eyes looking Matt up and down. Then it dawned on her.

She twisted her mouth sourly. "Rebekah."

Matt nodded, a calm grin attached to his face. "She's not exactly the nicest, but there's just something about her that I can't seem to get over."

"Right. I don't understand you two," Caroline admitted.

"There's that judgemental look I know and love," the boy joked.

"Hey, no," Caroline argued, "It's just. . .Rebekah?"

"Klaus, Caroline? Really?" Matt lifted his arms in mock disgust.

"Ugh!" Caroline groaned in defeat. "You're right. We're one in the same, Donovan."

"That we are, Forbes," he laughed, lightly chucking a fist under Caroline's chin.

"Who would've thunk it," Caroline wondered aloud, "you and me, getting it on with Original's?"

"'Getting it on', Care? Where do you come up with these things?"

"I don't know!" She exclaimed. "I'm just so confused, my brain doesn't know what it's saying!"

"What's so confusing? You like a guy and he clearly likes you back. What's there to be confused about?"

"Evil, remember?"

"You don't honestly believe he's evil, do you?"

Caroline was left momentarily speechless. Wasn't Matt the one that forced her to compel him when she dropped the 'vampire bomb?' And the one who constantly complained about needing a life outside of vampires and werewolves?

As little as she wanted to admit it, Rebekah Mikaelson had really done some good work on the former quarterback.

"I don't like this," she sighed, rubbing her face with a tired hand, noticing idly that her headache had disappeared, "but if I'm gonna be honest with you, no I don't actually think he's evil. I think he's terribly misunderstood and handsome and sad. And that's why he acts out. He's a child, an unloved child that's still searching for the right answers to the questions he doesn't even know how to ask."

"And you're helping him find those answers," Matt assured her with a light shove.

Caroline smiled at him, slowly moving her head up and down. "Something like that."

"Feel better?" He asked after a moment of mutual silence.

Closing her eyes, Caroline inhaled deeply and sighed out, "Yeah, I do. Thanks, Matt."

"Anytime, Care." He got up from his stool and started walking away only to turn back at the last second, his body shining green-yellow-blue-red. "You're secret is safe with me."

Caroline grinned widely, watching him get swallowed up by the myriad of horny young adults, and felt the guilty weight that had placed itself on her chest months ago steadily lift.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: **_What did everyone think? Was it okay? I get it ended kind of suddenly, but ah well._

_I want to say right now that while English is kind of my thing, I don't actually have a beta, and anyone with an English degree will tell you how toxic it is trying to proofread and edit your own work, so if there are mistakes in here it's all on my shoulders. _

_But anyway, I'm crossing my fingers that you guys liked it. It was fun to relax and put Matt in the story, even if that's not how it would've happened at all. __I have to admit, I kind of ship Mabekah._

_"Diane Young" is a complicated song to try to dissect on Fanfiction, but if you want to learn more head to Rock Genius and they'll tell you all about what it means. _

_Next Friday will be. . .**Rebekah confronts Klaus! Yay! or boo, I don't know. **_

_Tell me what you thought and I look forward to hearing from you! _

_Four down, six to go,_

_-LoveIsATemple_


	5. Explanations and Revelations

**A/N: **_So, wow! Over eighty follows for just four chapters. That's pretty amazing. I mean, I'm sure you're all just waiting for the M-rated stuff, but it's thrilling for me to know such a large number (because for me, eighty is a lot) is enjoying this. It makes it worth it, because I'd still be writing even if no one cared about this, so thank you thank you thank you so much for making this worth while. Please, just keep it up! You're too great and wonderful and I am so undeserving._

_This one peeks over three thousand words, but I'm actually kind of proud of it. I had to delve deep into the Original's minds to get this one done and it was a lot of fun. If you don't like it, then that'll just crush me. Okay, not really, but I really do hope this one's well received. I know a lot of you have been looking forward to it and that makes me just slightly (a lot!) nervous. There's a good (I think) balance between angst and humour in this. And maybe it's not too funny, but there's some sibling bickering going on. I have three sisters, I know bickering well. _

_I know it's kind of bittersweet now because Claire Holt has suddenly up and left TO, but I hope that doesn't cloud your enjoyment._

_Oh, and all mistakes are mine. Please frogive. . .ah, dammit. I meant forgive. . ._

_Now, on to the next chapter of Forget About the Sunshine in which **Rebekah gets Nik to talk about his feelings. Sort of.**_

**_DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. Well, I own a lot of stuff, but The Vampire Diaries/The Originals are not actually in my possession. _**

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><p><strong>"All 'cause you<strong>

**love, love, love when you know I can't love."**

**Love, Love, Love | Of Monsters and Men**

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><p><strong>Drabble #5 (of 10) | Explanations and Revelations<strong>

Nik couldn't stop smiling. But he didn't know that. Nor did he know just about everyone's eyes were constantly watching him, waiting for his cheery mood to dissipate and in its place return the murderous smirk.

He was genuinely happy, and instead of freaking out about it, he was allowing it to simmer in his tummy and overtake him. What was the harm in enjoying himself every now and again? He saw no immediate fault with his less sulky appearance at least, and who would dare challenge him?

Seeing Caroline, confronting her. . .it changed everything. The game was no longer the same, nor could set itself back. They could never be 'nothing' to each other anymore. She'd admitted everything.

She'd _kissed _him. Very enthusiastically. And he greedily accepted his fate—he would forever be under the blonde's spell.

Some deep, dark place inside of himself disliked this fact, but fuck it, who cares? The thing he'd let control him for over a year finally became his. Even if it was for just one moment. One glorious moment.

Oh, who was he kidding? It was longer than a moment. She'd moaned his name for hours in those woods. He was actually surprised no one came running to see what was dying.

Elation—that's what he felt; the greatest happiness on Earth. And all it took was a thousand years and a few sexy smirks to get there.

Not everyone found Nik's exhilaration appealing. In fact, many cowered away from him while in this state more than when he was shivering with bloodlust and anger. He didn't understand New Orleans's attitude toward him since he returned. Perhaps he'd take Marcel's advice and go back to Virginia more often.

It didn't make sense; when did being kind become grounds for suspicion? Then again, it _did_ sort of make sense. When an Original starts showing mercy that usually entails a powder keg and a sporadically lit match.

He wished it could be simpler. He wished people could forget the evilness for just a second while he basked in the afterglow of sex and Caroline Forbes. When he felt like returning to his old self, he'd warn everyone. He'd kill some people; rip their throats out by fangs alone, peel the skin off their arms until they died from shock.

For now, though, he just wanted to be a normal boy satisfied with a days work. He'd gotten what he wanted and he was enjoying the rewards.

Alone in his own neck of the woods, Nik could almost taste her. With nothing to distract him except the loud leaves crashing to the ground and the distant trilling of a river, he was free to remember everything: the way Caroline's bouncy curls felt threaded through his fingers, how tight her entire body was with just one touch, the smiles she gave him, and the digging of her teeth into his neck.

He'd allowed her to take his blood free of charge and watched through half-lidded eyes as it slipped down her throat in a coppery waterfall. The sick, dangerous side of him hadn't allowed the marks to heal yet. There were still two taut, white marks above his collarbone where her incisors sliced his skin.

Scraping his rough fingers along the scars now, Nik heard someone coming. For a moment, he fear filled his bones, but he recognised the footfalls of Rebekah and immediately relaxed. She glided like a ballerina through the dead woods until he smelled her behind him.

His lips curled into a half-smile and he cracked his fingers as if preparing himself for a fight.

"Dear sister, to what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked menacingly. Rebekah had ruined his time alone—he was not thrilled.

She did not reply straight away, causing the hybrid to turn and face her. Trepidation presented itself on her face as she opened her mouth several times without uttering a single word.

He grew quickly impatient.

"Spit it out then," he demanded under his breath, stepping closer.

She didn't move, that wasn't a good sign. Her head went up a little higher and she shook her shoulders out, obviously trying to gain some motivation.

"What's going on with you, Nik?" She asked after what seemed like hours, but could only have been mere minutes.

Nik stood still and frowned.

Why would she think anything was wrong?

"You've been acting weird since we got back," she elaborated awkwardly, shifting her weight from her right to her left foot.

"Ah," Nik coughed, glaring at his own feet. Had he been acting _weird_?

"How so?" He prodded.

Rebekah stumbled a little, caught off guard by his curiosity. He giggled at his sister's clumsiness.

"Well. . .it's just. . .you've been smiling," she offered, unsure. "And almost giddy. We've been concerned."

"Concerned? Why?" They had nothing to worry about. He was more than fine. Much more than fine.

"Because we think maybe something happened while we were in Virginia," she continued, refusing to look him in the eye. Usually that would piss him off, but it didn't now. Maybe something _was_ wrong with him. "And I want you to know you can talk to me," she finished, flashing her concerned blue eyes.

He scowled. "What makes you think I'd want to talk to you about this?"

Rebekah stood her ground with defiance. "So there is something to speak about?"

Had she tricked him into confessing?

No, she'd done no such thing.

"What if there is?" He was being cryptic and he could tell she didn't appreciate his discrepancy.

"I'm your sister. Talk to me," she seethed through clenched teeth, not pleased with his avoidance.

Nik smiled fondly. "Something did happen in Mystic Falls, you are correct," he admitted, very close to blushing. He damned himself to hell just for that and immediately corrected his growing grin.

Rebekah rushed for him, grabbing his face in her hands and peering up at him with scared breaths. "Did they do something to you, brother?" She asked frantically, moving his neck so she could see every part of his face.

He shook out of her grip and held onto her wrists.

"Nothing bad happened, Rebekah. It was good," he groaned with a shake of his head.

Did letting several people live not mean happiness? Or did it just mean 'crazy' to the vampires of New Orleans? Goodness, how this place had changed since he was its sole ruler.

She twisted her hands and set herself free of his grasp. "Then what's got you acting so different? You never smile."

"When do I not smile?" He was fairly certain a sinister grin was never far from his lips.

"You smile, you do," she agreed, but then went on talking like only Rebekah could, "but you've never looked happy doing it. It's freaking me out."

"Freaking you out?" He scoffed at her modern choice of words.

"Yes!" She exclaimed, stomping her foot as if she were a mere child. "Now, tell me what's causing this dramatic shift in personality. I want my brother back."

"I'm right here," he explained, motioning to his entire body. "Just because a stupid smile is on my face doesn't mean I'm a completely changed man."

He needed to defend himself. It almost sounded like Rebekah was insulting Caroline even if she didn't exactly know it and Nik couldn't have that happening.

"You're not you! Did you have a bad fall or something?"

"Oh, yes, Rebekah. The great and powerful Niklaus survives a thousand years, doppelgängers, and our parents, but the one thing that's thrown me so very far off my rocker is a bump to the head," he bit out sarcastically, admiring the anger rising in Rebekah's cheeks.

She threw her hands up in an annoyed huff. "You're such an asshole, Nik!"

"Never said I wasn't," he chimed with a deep chuckle.

"Will you just tell me? Please? As your sister, I deserve to know, right?" She was getting desperate now. He could feel the waves of annoyed sweat washing through her clothes despite the chilled air.

"You really wanna know?" He teased. Rebekah nodded enthusiastically. "Truly want to know?" He pushed. Still, she nodded. "Okay," he conceded, hoping to get a good reaction out of her at his profession. "I slept with Caroline."

He watched in admiration as his sister's facial expression transformed from dumbfounded shock, to sickening disgust, to inconsolable rage—all the while with his smirk in place.

"You WHAT!?" She screeched, sending all different assortments of birds off with flapping wings and squawks of disapproval.

Nik tried for only a second to hold back his laughter before it rumbled out like thunder on a darkened day.

"That's so disgusting!" She chided, running to him and slapping him back. He was too thrilled to even care.

"You do realise she's a thousand years younger than you," she mentioned.

The hybrid paused. That thought hadn't occurred to him, no. But was it important? She wanted it. He wanted it. It definitely wasn't forced.

And despite his a thousand years head start, she made him come with more force than any creature ever had previously.

He shivered in remembrance.

Rebekah was still in front of him, shaking her head in both disappointment and fury.

"What the fuck do you see in her? What about Haley?" She yelled.

More birds shot off into the sky.

Nik was growing tired of her immaturity. She hadn't been a saint these past centuries either.

"Oh, shove off, Rebekah. Haley doesn't care about me, so why should I care about her? And besides, what do you see in the quarterback?" He challenged gravely, revelling in his sister's stuttered step back. "Thought so," he sighed. "I don't know Rebekah. She is still a mystery to me, I must admit. It's not something I can name, just something I'm having accept."

His admission startled himself as well as his sister, who looked at him currently with an annoying empathetic whimper.

"You love her?" She asked suddenly.

Nik faltered at her inquiry, but quickly covered it up with a grimace. "No."

He spoke sternly, surely. No room for doubt.

"Yes," Rebekah tested, her voice uncertain, but clear.

The vampire/werewolf cross had no time for his sister's interference. Negotiation was out of the question.

"I told you," he warned with a growl, "no."

Niklaus couldn't love her.

He could be infatuated, yes. He could admire her. He could even fuck her. But he drew the line at _feelings. _

"Oh, come off it Nik! You love her, just admit it," she needled, her words pricking him like vervain.

He snapped.

"No!" He bellowed, gathering his delicate sister's neck in a vice grip and slamming her body against a rotting tree. She gagged and clawed at his hand, but he didn't relent. Not yet. She needed to understand the same thing he did: he _couldn't _love her.

Eventually, Rebekah's wet gurgles were too much, and he let her drop to the floor. She scrambled and whooshed up, but didn't try to fight back. He shouldn't be surprised; she always looked up to him even when he was so terribly cruel.

He was an awful big brother.

"I feel sorry for you, Nik," she spat with a rueful laugh.

Five inches. He was five inches taller than her and she was wearing only flats. This was not a dramatic height difference, but it was enough that she had to bend her neck to grasp his eyes' attention.

Her face swam with too many emotions—he had to back away and shield his precious, old, unfeeling eyes.

"Why?" He begged to know her reasons for sorrow.

"Because you can't admit it. Not to her, not to yourself. Not to _me_!"

He laughed at the leaves crunching under his feet and peered dazedly at his younger sister and her pitiful expression.

And he was having such a good day before she showed up to ruin it.

"Love is a weakness, sister," he told her. He'd always told her this. Always. When would she understand?

"Weakness?" She scoffed. His anger spiked. "It's only a weakness if you let it become one, Nik. I—I really don't understand why you chose Caroline or why she chose you, but if one time with her was enough to keep you smiling all this past week, then why the hell aren't you with her right now? Why can't you see the effect she has on you? The effect love has on you."

"_I can't be good_, Rebekah. The good do not survive."

He said it more to the ground than to Rebekah.

"Love doesn't kill, Nik," she tried again. "It doesn't tear you down. It rises you up."

"And you'd know?" He asked incredulously, his belly burning. "You'd know all of this. From personal experiences?"

He was being cruel, but she deserved it for her stupidity. Her boldness.

"Yes! Yes I know it! And maybe getting your heart broken never ceases to hurt, brother, but it's worth it," she said as a roll of thunder sounded above their heads and a cloud cracked, sending water upon the land.

"Is it truly worth it? Does the bad really weigh out the good?"

The rain spit between his lips and clouded his vision, but maybe that was the tears. The frustrated tears.

"Sometimes I wonder," she shouted against the whipping rain. "But yes. It always weighs out the good."

"Love is weakness, Rebekah," he repeated lazily, but loud enough that she could still hear him. "Love kills you."

"No." She shook her head, moving to stand in front of him. "It _doesn't_ kill you. It just makes you a little less afraid of dying. It saves you. It makes it all okay. It's your salvation."

Nik watched his sister's blonde hair soak with rain and her clothes cling to her body. The pain was easier to hide in the rain. It was easier to confront without anyone else judging you.

Love _was _weakness.

But Caroline had told him the same thing all that time ago when she wasn't sure if they'd be the words used up by her final breaths.

"_I know that you're in love with me," she croaked, the light fizzling behind her blue eyes. His heart, the heart that had been dead for a thousand years, beat like a jackhammer in his chest. _

"_And anyone capable of love is capable of being saved." She finished. _

Those would have been amazing last words had he let her slip. Had he allowed his werewolf bite to kill her. But he literally could not watch her die.

What happened to her being a means to an end? When did she stop being his plaything?

When did she crawl under his skin and rip the rug from underneath him?

"_And anyone capable of love is capable of being saved." _

She saw his goodness before he even saw it himself. She trusted him, trusted that he wouldn't sit back and let her die.

Forever he'd hated the way his voice cracked when he'd called her name that night, when he'd given in and fed her his blood.

But Caroline had been right.

And so was his sister.

With a choked laughter that rippled with the thunder, Nik threw his body on the ground, letting his head smack the wet leaves. His smile was pained and broken and twisted, but somehow happy.

He knew Rebekah was no longer with him. She'd run off soon after her inspiring little speech.

She would be proud of that one for some time, he didn't doubt.

The sky continued to bleed on him, swallowing him in mud and cracked leaves and regretful misery.

"_. . .So if you promise to walk away like you said, and never come back, then yes, I will be honest with you, I will be honest with you about what I want."_

_He hesitated, mulling it over for a second. _

_His word was good, but dammit, she was better. _

"_I will walk away," he agreed gravely, "and I will never come back. I promise." _

_Caroline got close. Too close. He could smell her and it was overwhelming. Flowers and blood and sweetness; strength and passion and future; hope and desperation and hidden desires. _

"_Good." _

She would be the death of him.

On his gravestone it would read: Death by Intoxicating Blonde Vampire, Caroline Forbes.

Perhaps love did destroy you—hell, he felt close to dying every time she found her way into his thoughts. And that's what scared him. He had spent a thousand years, a thousand lifetimes, building armies and raising cities from crumbled stone, and his one weakness, his fucking Achilles heel, was a baby vampire with too much cheek.

Perhaps love did destroy you—but with her, it wasn't nearly as terrifying a prospect as he once assumed.

A small, defeated smirk pulled his lips apart.

He needed to find an excuse to return to Mystic Falls.

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><p><strong>AN 2: **_Okay, I'm lame. I have the weirdest, most British sense of humour that people just don't seem to understand. I sincerely hope all my jokes get through to at least one person out there. Shout out to whoever you are!_

_What did people think? Leave your reviews and questions and theories and stuff. . .I'm not good at asking for that stuff. But it does make me smile when you review, so maybe that'll be enough encouragement. _

_And perhaps I left this one off at such a weird point because maybe I have an idea for a sequel of sorts. . .? Maybe. . .(wink, wink)_

_Who's ready for some shameless promotion? Well, it's not really promotion so much as a question. Anyway, would you be interested in reading a new fic I'm developing? It's probably been done before, in fact I know it has, but maybe you could hear me out?_

_There's going to be a prequel to the fic coming out soon, but it could most definitely stand alone as a one-shot if people don't like the idea, so please give your feedback. The idea is:** One year after appearing as a guest star on what many consider the greatest television show to date, Caroline Forbes is reunited with her arch nemesis as they co-star in her feature film debut.**_

_I've read "Everybody Talks" more than once, but I had this idea before reading that fic and I'm not trying to compete with Hybridlovelies (because who can do that), but I am asking for an opportunity to put my own spin on the whole acting thing. The prequel would be revolving around when Caroline guest starred on the show and, again, could stand as a one-shot. If you like the sound, please let me know. I've been working on it for a long time and I want to know if it's worth the trouble. _

_This is really long, so I'll wrap it up by saying check out Of Monsters and Men. That song goes along well with this chapter. _

_Next time. . .**Klaus discovers Caroline shredded his poor picture and finds a way to fix it.**_

_Thanks so much! Five down, five to go. We're at the halfway point people! Yay!_

_-LoveIsATemple_


	6. Back For More (pt one)

**A/N 1: **_You lucky suckers get this a day early because I'm home in Virginia and have to celebrate my youngest sister's birthday tomorrow. So, I won't get a huge opportunity to publish anything. And, of course, there's the small fact that this drabble/one-shot is a TWO PARTER! Expect part deux on Saturday. Or really late tomorrow. I'm not sure yet. Be on the look out for it, though._

_I'm back to my angst-ridden roots with this instalment, be prepared. And both parts are in Klaus's POV. _

_Okay, enjoy this part in which **Klaus finds a way to get a new picture to Caroline**! And thanks so so much to everyone who's reviewed, favourited, and followed. You're amazing! _

_If you're up for it, review this part for the hell of it and tell me what you think might happen next. . ._

**_DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING._**

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><p><strong>"Now, do you want dignity,<strong>

**Or do you want love?**

**Go ahead and want both,**

**But you only get one."**

**Saturday Night Again | Patrick Stump**

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><p><strong>Drabble #6 (of 10) | Back For More pt. one<strong>

He was back at her window, breaking his New Year's Resolution like the good little hybrid he was.

How long had he kept it this year? A good day or so. Which wasn't so bad. The first few times he tried to cut back on watching her it lasted only a couple of hours. He'd suffer from withdrawal much like an addict and be right by her window again in no time, itching to get his fix.

The poor, isolated hybrid lusted after her. He craved her like he typically craved fresh blood. His fangs would drop and his veins would ripple until he broke another one of his silly resolutions and killed an innocent bystander to quench his enthusiastic and inescapable thirst.

Loneliness surrounded him like the most suffocating blanket. He was alone and it hurt. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone but himself. And even then he liked to pretend everything was perfectly fine.

Years had passed since his failed New Orleans experiment. His siblings were back in their graves, wooden daggers jutting from their chests like sick pieces of art. Everyone betrayed him yet again. He could trust no one.

And yet here he was, observing the blonde creature in her natural habitat. He trusted her foolishly and stupidly. He supposed it was a good thing she didn't know he still existed, still stalked her.

Klaus had long forgotten his promise to her, as he was sure she had as well. The only thing that prevented him from knocking on her door, or any of the doors he'd seen her behind these many years, was that strange, bulky man who accompanied her wherever she went.

Jealousy had never been his forte, but he couldn't help the odd sensation from poisoning his blood every time he watched Caroline's face light up at the sight of this man.

_As long as he treated her right_, he'd tell himself, _then it was okay_. _As long as no harm came to her_.

Those were the thoughts that kept her companion alive—Klaus's unwillingness to hurt her further.

Would she be upset if she found him one day, lounging by her bedroom window, looking in and _seeing _her? Noticing how everything had changed for her as well?

But this was not Mystic Falls. She couldn't get mad. She got what she wanted; that horrible, fake feeling of normalcy.

She was moving steadily along without him and it broke something inside of him.

He watched her. Creepy and intrusive, but she didn't know he was there.

Did that make it worse or better? More or less painful? He never could figure that out.

Tonight, in the chilled, suburban New York atmosphere, she was alone. No boy toy. Just herself and the small thing he'd heard her call a dog. It looked like a rat to him, but he'd been alive too long and to him dogs were massive, protective beasts.

Klaus often studied her beauty on nights when she was on her own. He'd poke a thumb out and try to memorise every pattern on her skin, the exact curve of her covered breast, and the sure way her soft, sweet-scented yellow locks fell over her creamy shoulders.

Everything about her choked him. His throat closed and he stopped breathing simply because it was _her_.

And he hated it. Hated the way she'd somehow managed to rule over him all these goddamned years. Without his family or his "friends" to guide him, nothing stopped him from becoming consumed by her—by his pained and haunted memory of her.

She was his ghost; a former living thing that captured his soul and dragged him with her wherever she went. He saw himself, sweaty and broken, in her each time he stared too long. So, to get her out of his mind, he drew her.

He traced a charcoal pencil over old parchment paper until the lines connected and transformed into the magnificence that was Caroline Forbes. Sometimes he'd bring his paints and climb up the large tree perfectly placed outside her bedroom window like it knew, years before when it started growing, that he would one day need it.

Her body was still this winter night, curled in a small, lacy robe with nothing underneath, and he worked best when he could observe a still object. He'd been painting her from memory for years and it never turned out quite right, but he would be damned (ha, oh how the irony plagued him) if he couldn't place her perfectly in this painting.

Almost like magic, and there was a slight chance it was such a thing, his hand, already somehow covered in paint, danced over the paper.

Colours blended, shadows twirled.

Soon, the blank canvas became overwhelmed by the image of Caroline Forbes.

It hurt his dead heart to look at, so he turned his head and watched the moon instead. The white orb wasn't full, but it blasted him with an urge to change into his fluffy form.

After many moments of silence, of glaring at the branches swaying in the wintery breeze, Klaus climbed down from his spot on the tree and prepared to leave. He was a classic vagabond, running from nothing and hiding from the world he had grown to so despise.

No home, no loved ones, just himself and his evil ways.

Caroline's light was still on, but the front door was locked.

_No, leave, _he argued.

But his hand craved the wooden structure, his knuckles begging to rap against the rectangular object and call her down.

She was awake. And a vampire. Someone knocking on her door at two in the morning wouldn't frighten her like it would her neighbours.

The painting was dry. He could give it to her. Slide it on the doormat and run away. He knew she'd destroyed all the other things she'd received from him, what would be the harm in giving her this? It would awaken her mind to the idea of him again. She'd be forced to remember him and all the wonderful things he embodied.

Because she was _that good_. She looked past his wickedness and saw deep in his soul. Perhaps giving her the painting, the painting that turned out so wonderful, would somehow make it okay. Would offer him forgiveness.

Before he knew what was happening, the painting was no longer in his hand and his fist was pounding on the door. The noise carried around him like he was in a confined space. It assaulted his delicate and ancient eardrums, jostling his brain around painfully.

His first instinct was to turn and run. He needed to escape before she appeared. But then he heard her feet scurrying down the staircase and heard the clicking of the door unlocking. And then the sound of his blood rushing through his veins got too loud, got so loud that it froze him—he couldn't move.

The door opened, air whooshed out; he was hit with her scent—fear, excitement, sweet berries.

She was there, still wearing nothing but the robe. Her face dropped. Her eyebrows bunched beautifully at the centre of her forehead and she took an immediate step back.

"Klaus?" She breathed almost afraid, but not quite. There _was_ a tremble in her throat, but it wasn't borne out of trepidation. No, it was a thrilled tremble.

He spoke the words that he'd rehearsed so many times before. The same words that once got him on her side—her primal, unrelenting side. He talked gruffly and tightly, with an air of fright and underlying eagerness, watching as her eyes bulged and stared.

This was it, this was how it ended.

"Hello, Caroline."

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><p><strong>AN 2: **_Dun, dun, dun! What's gonna happen? _

_First off, sorry if I reused any cliché Klaroline lines. They're all so great and I love using them._

_That line in Saturday Night just breaks me. Especially the way Patrick Stump sings it. It's so true for our guys as well, don't you think? _

_Alright my wonderful audience, next time **we find out what Caroline does now that Klaus has uttered those infamous words that got him in her pants the last time**. I hope you don't dislike cliffhangers. If this can even be considered a cliffhanger. Just know you'll find out soon enough._

_Oh, and this fic is inching its way to one hundred follows and that's plain mind-blowing! Thank you all for your support :)_

_5.5 down, 4.5 to go! If my math is correct. . ._

_'Til next time,_

_-LoveIsATemple_


	7. Back For More (pt two)

**A/N 1: **_Yo, I am back with part two! And I'm nervous about this. Extremely nervous. I have to warn you: this is an M-rated chapter and it's still kinda angsty. _

_Don't be afraid of leaving me a review! It would be much appreciated :)_

_We're one away from one hundred follows. Thank you so much to everyone who's read this and enjoyed it and I hope this chapter is up to par with the rest. It was a bitch to write for some reason._

_All mistakes, cheesiness, and angst are mine. But you all should know that by now._

_Okay, here we go! Enjoy. _

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><p><strong>"She's got your number a<strong>**nd you've got her scent,**

**she left it on your collar, **

**b****ut you don't know where she went.**

**It's the ghost of a good time y****ou carry around**

**A little artificial, like the confidence you found."**

**Saturday Night Again | Patrick Stump**

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><p><strong>Drabble #6 (of 10) | Back For More pt. two<strong>

Her body was motionless and he was certain she'd stopped breathing somewhere between saying his name and him uttering hello. He should probably worry about that, but she didn't need to breathe, so he let the small factor slide by him without care.

Music played upstairs, the faint chords of a once familiar song exciting him more than it should.

Darkened eyes watched him and he suddenly felt uncomfortable with the attention focused on him.

He didn't like the tables being turned; he disliked being the one glared at. He could do it to her all he liked, simply because she never knew about it, but the way her baby blue's studied him intently, noticing everything, made him squirm.

"What are you doing here?" She asked finally, her voice the softest of whispers.

It sent the same bubbles of desire through his veins and he fought the urge to shiver.

Klaus couldn't give her an answer; he didn't know what he was doing there. The idea to knock on her door was stupid and rash. But then again, he'd always been stupid and rash. Brilliantly stupid and rash.

He held no power to speak, which angered him greatly. He was the king of witty remarks and one-liners. Where were his magical words now?

_Swallowed up by the blonde vampire in front of you, probably, _he told himself.

Luckily, Klaus didn't have to come up with some lame coverup. His brain would not be forced to decide between "oh, I was just in the neighbourhood," and "funny you should mention that, I've been stalking you for years now."

After her initial shock floated away, he saw her face cool and set into a relaxed state.

He stood in his place, unmoving and silent. His breath caught when she stepped outside, the light pattering of her feet jerking his hands into fists so as to restrain himself from running for her.

She stared at him for two undead heartbeats of uncomfortable silence.

And then, almost begrudgingly, while his curled fists squeezed the blood away from his fingers, Caroline grabbed his stubble-covered cheeks and cemented their mouths together.

She kissed him. _She kissed him again. _It was all her—he was thinking of changing her name to _instigator._

"Wait, wait," he said, pressing his hands to her shoulders and pushing her away so their eyes could meet, surprised at his own trepidation.

Her breath hit his face like cocaine and he inhaled until he saw stars.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his throat closing with horrid emotion.

Anger, hatred, lust.

Klaus didn't get a vocal answer.

He got her head bobbing forward and taking him hostage as a response.

Not that he was complaining.

Through all the chaos of tongues and hands she mumbled in an invitation inside. They stumbled over the threshold, him holding her like a lifeline and her pulling the clothes off his back.

The door slammed closed and he jumped at the noise, but didn't separate from his golden goddess.

He kicked his shoes off and lifted his arms so she could rip his shirt away. He heard it land somewhere far, far away; somewhere only the living could reach.

"I missed you," she said lowly, so low he wasn't sure he heard right, but then she said again, "I missed you."

And then she kissed him, long and suffocating, and whispered, "I hate that I missed you."

His head pounded, his brain unprepared for the admission, but his dimples still showed, his stubble sticking to her cheeks.

There was a jackhammer drumming against his skull, and every time her lips slapped his, the noise got unbearably loud. He was too drunk on her to care, though. Too high and lost in the sensation of her ripping the skin of his chest with her fingernails to remember that nearly ten years had gone since their last meeting.

She had a boyfriend, right?

He couldn't recall.

She definitely didn't kiss like she had a boyfriend.

She kissed like it was going out of style. Like she wanted to forget everything but him. Like she'd only just discovered the joys of locking lips with someone else, of sucking and biting until moans and groans were all that could be heard.

All he could think was how sweet she tasted. How much he wished, prayed, that this was not another one of his cruel dreams.

Their eyes were shut, their other senses overloading on touches and noises and neediness.

Blood spilled as she tore at his lips, the scent of the stuff dizzying his already fuzzed mind.

Her tongue lapped at the copper liquid dribbling down his chin.

It washed them in animalistic colours.

It sent the remainder of his blood down, down, down to where want controlled his movements. He was hard, painfully so, and needed to relieve the discomfort soon.

With vampiric speed he slammed her body so roughly against the wall that the house shook, and started running his hands everywhere on her.

She submitted, letting him control their movements.

He enjoyed it, being in control. It felt safer—even if he didn't feel anything close to safe with Caroline unbuttoning his jeans with her long, cold fingers.

Soon enough, she'd reminded him of her own strength and switched their positions, trapping him in a web of limbs and forgotten secrets against the opposite wall.

His head dropped back and hit the brick, lights flashing in his eyes as Caroline's mouth left hot, slobbery kisses on his neck, her tongue painting a wet picture on the dancing veins pressed against his skin.

There was a familiar salacious tinge to the searing lips and the way they moved up his neck and nipped roughly at his mouth.

His bare chest roughed her clothed one—begging for more skin—and he tugged lightly on the tie of her robe, admiring blindly the quick ease in which it billowed down around their feet.

Caroline gasped, a gorgeous sound that stabbed straight through his ribs like a stake, as his hands roamed the skin he'd craved for much too long.

Never had he agonisingly hungered for a woman like he did Caroline Forbes. This—them—was all too surreal.

The thought frightened him, so he forgot it and focused instead on the small jolts her hips gave whenever he hit a sensitive spot on her chest.

His deft fingers knew her breasts well despite only ever exploring them once before.

He twirled his hot tongue around her nipples, leaving her lips to lather the swells of flesh with saliva.

He loved the small noises she made above him and barely noticed when she yanked at his hair and pushed his face further into her chest.

Satisfied with his work, smelling her arousal clear as day, he moved back to kiss her lips heatedly, smiling into the violent attack and trying to ignore how badly he needed her.

She panted in his mouth, letting her own hands reach further down his body until they buried themselves in his pants.

Now it was his turn to whimper.

Not much shorter than him, she was able to wrench his jeans down and free his erection without having to part the kiss.

"I have a bedroom," she moaned against his lips, her hands grappling with his shoulders while he unceremoniously untangled his toes from his jeans and lifted her up.

Legs encircled his waist, want smothered his pelvis. Caroline, ever the tease.

He nearly dropped her several times on his way up the stairs, her kisses and bites and jolting hips steadily becoming unbearably erotic.

"Sweetheart, I need to see where I'm going," he muttered between the assault on his mouth.

"Why do I have a feeling you would know where to go in this house blindfolded?" She retorted angrily, sinking her teeth into his shoulder.

He bit back a cry, rolling his eyes at the sudden pain radiating on his skin.

He deserved that. She knew now that he'd been watching her. Probably knew it the minute she opened the door.

The small detail hadn't stopped her from jumping him, though, so he assumed he wasn't completely on her bad side.

Still, she guided him with small instructions until they landed on a warm, well-used mattress.

Nerves uncharacteristically overcrowded his mind and he couldn't quite remember what was supposed to happen next.

"Klaus," Caroline mewled desperately when he ran a mindless hand up her thigh.

_Right, _he thought, _that's what I'm supposed to do. _

She was wet, but he wanted to make her quake.

Leaning over her, Klaus kissed her nose, cheeks, and lips to distract her from thinking too much. To distract himself from thinking too much.

This was happening, he needed to remind himself. It was happening and it was happening fast and zealously and hungrily.

Her hands were moving all over his back, tracing an outline of the tattoo drilled into the skin of his back.

She lifted herself using her elbows and forced his lips off her face.

Caroline observed him with a look of contentment, her hand gliding up to his neck and rifling through his hair. She brought her head forward and kissed the base of his throat, pinching the skin lightly with her teeth.

He hissed as a wave of pleasure washed over him whilst he separated her legs, lifting them at the knees either side of him, preparing her—and himself—for the inevitable.

A choked groan escaped his throat when her hand caressed his erection and he knew exactly what she was asking him, but was trying to prolong it for as long as he possibly could.

"Klaus," she whispered in his ear, "take me."

The order was there, plain and simple. She was telling him what to do and he had to do it. Because he was not the alpha here. He never had been.

"I've wanted this for too long," he grumbled, mildly unaware that he was speaking out loud.

"Klaus," she repeated sternly—breathlessly. He looked at her through his eyelashes. She was breathtaking underneath him. Her cheeks were rosy and her lips parted in a small smile. Blue eyes blinked at him as sweat stuck her hair to her face like glue. He adored her. "Take me."

The part of him that was thick and pulsing ached for her. It needed her. He needed her.

So he took her.

He grabbed himself with his right hand and grabbed her with the other.

Gliding up and down her folds, he made sure she was ready by locking their eyes. Her eyes bugged out of her head as he teased her, but the slight nod gave him all the indication he needed and he dipped inside.

They let out a mutual groan, both their heads falling forward.

Their breathing laboured, eyes watching where he steadily disappeared into her, inch by inch.

Her face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and pain as he slipped deeper. She looked on the verge of either exploding or yelling at him with the way her eyebrows scrunched over her nose.

She moaned beneath him, one of her hands tugging his back, urging him to move quicker. Her legs tightened around his waist, bringing his whole body down to hers, their eyes not once straying from the other's.

He sped up his movements, desperate for more friction as their bodies slid together with sweat and arousal.

Tightness surrounded him everywhere, chaining him to her, not leaving any room for escape.

"God," she called, her eyes closing momentarily before shooting open.

Knowing she was close, because he'd memorised the way she writhed when she was getting ready to collapse, he opted for a change in position. He twisted around, popping out for just a second, and guiding her body so she sat up on top of him, moving her heated centre down over him.

Looking at her this way, sweaty and vulnerable and shocked, plagued him, so he gripped her hips painfully and started ushering her down and up.

He gasped, unable to control the many noises currently trilling out his mouth. She smiled above him coyly, knowing she was the cause for his lapse in restraint.

"You have to leave before morning," she panted between the loud slaps of their grating skin, her eyes watching him too intently.

"I promise," he groaned, moving her quicker and trying to ignore the pinch in his gut at the reminder that this was not his life. This was a one time thing.

Hell, he wasn't even sure this was real.

Her hair framed her face angelically and he wondered how on earth anyone could look so much like a heavenly creature when bouncing unrelentingly over a demon such as himself. He would never deserve her goodness. Animals like him didn't get girls like her.

But for now, with some song screaming at them in the background, telling them everything was going to be all right, he could make-believe that this was all real; that he could stay until morning and that he could look at her without feeling the weight of a thousand deaths.

"Klaus," she whispered.

His eyes shot to hers, having been lost somewhere else.

The blues of her irises never looked more like the ocean than they did now. Like vast, bottomless pits he would forever be lost inside.

"I'm close," she said, but he already knew.

Her walls had been contracting around him for some time, but he took initiative and pressed his thumb to the sensitive bundle of nerves of her sex, loving the shuddered breath he received in return.

Slamming her hands on his chest, her fingernails popped beneath his skin as she struggled to maintain her self-control.

Blood pooled as she detached her claws, tangling itself with the fine hairs on his skin, smearing against him like paint.

Caroline brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked the thick, red substance between her lips, successfully bringing him one step closer to release.

Amidst all the erotic bloodsucking and the sly smirks and the toxic puffs of breath, Caroline grumbled something that was quickly accompanied by the spasms of her orgasm.

Her toes curled and her eyes shut and her mouth dropped open.

He came shortly after her with his own grunts and probably embarrassing facial expressions as ecstasy coursed through him like blood.

Their bodies remained attached, neither of them having the energy to move.

He still had her by the hips, but she'd stopped moving. He almost said it then; the three hellish words burning the tip of his tongue. But he didn't mean it—couldn't mean it—so he held his breath until the moment passed.

She stood up, successfully releasing him from his personalised prison, and bent her knees so she was crouching next to him.

Sex lingered in the air, the heady scent wafting into his nostrils, burning his lungs.

Her wonton eyes bored into his long-dead soul as she leaned down and kissed him with venomous lips, poisoning his bloodstream yet again with an impassioned tongue battle.

The muscle sliced his mouth like a sword, but he got off on the hurt.

Letting him go, she buried herself under the covers of her bed, motioning for him to join her. Not one to disobey Caroline Forbes, he threw away the voice that told him he needed to leave in favour of lying beside this beautiful woman for just one more minute as they came down from their high.

Sitting up against the head of her bed, Klaus raised his eyebrows and smiled playfully. Caroline frowned at him from her position and fixed her hair, smoothing the various fly aways and getting herself comfortable.

"What?" She asked confidently, like it hadn't been ten years since they last saw each other.

His smile widened at her boldness.

"Can't I just be happy, Caroline?" He retorted, folding his arms behind his head and peering at her through content slits.

"That's not a happy smile. That's an 'I've won' smile. What did you win, Klaus?"

A stinging resonated through his chest and he dropped his smile, returning to his face the infamous scowl.

"An evening in paradise, I suppose," he mumbled, looking around the room.

There was a small television against the opposite wall and various photographs littered the surfaces. He recognised a few of her friends, but some people were strangers. Yet another indication that she'd moved on.

Caroline's room was bigger than the one she had back in Mystic Falls, but he wouldn't consider it a great size. Her queen bed overflowed with fluffy pillows decorated in evil fringe and he wondered what the allure to such objects truly was.

Females, he guessed.

"Where's your rat?" He asked after the silence stretched too long.

She narrowed her eyes at him and he smirked, her annoyance pleasing him greatly.

"She's not a rat. And she's probably in the laundry room getting my clothes dirty."

"It looks like a rat. She didn't bark when I came inside," he mentioned.

Caroline rolled her eyes gorgeously.

"Well, she _is _a rat terrior," she defended. "She's not meant to be an attack dog."

"Clearly," Klaus murmured under his breath, earning himself another death glare.

He barked a laugh at Caroline's face and absently started tracing circles on the inside of her arm.

When he realised what he was doing, he was tempted to stop, but Caroline didn't say anything and there were goosebumps on both their arms.

He kept doing it, writing silly things and serious things on her skin, hoping some of it would eventually imprint on her.

"This is new."

He pointed to a tattoo on her hip. It was bathed in scratches. His scratches.

She bit her lip and nodded carefully.

"_Sweet dreams are made of this,_" he read, not really noticing the cringing Caroline next to him. "Eurythmics?"

He gave her a questioning look and she replied by smiling embarrassedly.

"It was a stupid bet. One I made with Stefan a few years back. There was something about trying to beat him up some stupid volcano in Hawaii and I lost. This was my punishment. In my defence, I was much drunker than him."

Klaus immersed his thoughts in images of her gang from back home, trying to imagine her and Stefan Salvatore racing up a volcanic mountain. Caroline, happy and running free. Stefan, knowing she had no chance.

He smiled again.

"Did they choose the words too?"

He lifted his hand from her arm and outlined the lyrics, lowly humming the tune, refusing the part of him that wanted to yell to Caroline that this was one of his favourite songs.

"No," she said shortly.

He waited for her to say more.

She sighed and turned on her side, trapping his hand under her weight. He didn't dare pull away.

"It had to be song lyrics, that was part of the bet, so I wanted to choose wisely. None of that Katy Perry shit that I could write in my sleep," she buzzed, her body giggling with excitement. "Sweet Dreams was one of my favourite songs growing up. It's about a desire to have a fulfilling life. I'm a vampire that gets to live forever, provided I don't accidentally land on a stake, and it seemed like a good idea at the time."

There was more she wanted to say—he'd missed her rambles—but she held her tongue.

"I like it," he insisted.

She turned on her back again, freeing his now numb hand.

"You smell nice," she said suddenly, not looking at him.

He blinked in surprise, but chuckled all the same.

"I smell like you, love," he informed her warmly.

"That must be it," she joked, a tired air hitting her.

Silence surrounded them like a blanket.

"Why," he began delicately, breaking the carefully crafted stillness, anger simmering deep within his belly. Caroline shifted to look at him. "Why did you get rid of all the things I gave you?"

He held his breath as he waited for her reply. An array of emotions cast over her features: everything from shock to pure annoyance.

She opened her mouth to speak and he had the sudden urge to run and hide.

"Because," she said softly, her voice quivering, "because I felt guilty. Everyone was making me feel guilty. And I didn't like it, so I took it out on the thing they were attacking me for: you," she explained, dangerously low.

"Stupid, right? I was stupid, very typically stupid. But it happened and that's not really something that can change."

Klaus didn't reply yet again, too enraptured with her excuse to properly formulate a response. She'd gotten rid of the picture because her "friends" were digging their dirty paws where they didn't belong.

If he cared enough he might mull over the many ways he could murder them all savagely.

"There's another picture waiting on your doorstep for whenever you want to see it," he told her, refusing to look at her as he spoke.

"I won't ask how you were able to paint me," she said sardonically, blowing the fringe out of her eyes.

"I wouldn't tell you anyway, Caroline."

A yawn captured her attention for a moment and she closed her eyes soon after. She was still awake, though. Her collected breathing and random vocalisations told him that much.

He didn't take his eyes off her as they continued their conversation, feeling it was safe if she didn't actually know he was carefully studying her.

They didn't talk about anymore of the heavy stuff. They weren't in the mood for it.

_He _wasn't in the mood for it.

For the first time in a long time, he finally felt somewhat happy and he wasn't about to ruin it by delving into the past or asking where her boy toy was and if he would mind that his girlfriend just fucked another man.

When she fell asleep, he stayed awake, afraid to close his eyes. But eventually the day and all its confusing glory got to him and he slowly let his eyelids droop until the room went black.

* * *

><p>He left the house before she woke up.<p>

January air hit his face in slaps, biting his pale cheeks raw.

Klaus listened for Caroline. He heard her awaken as he stood plenty of feet away from her home. She jumped down her steps and quickly opened the front door he'd recently closed.

A safe distance away, Klaus saw Caroline bend down and retrieve the slip of paper lying on her doorstep, but she went inside before he caught her reaction.

So he walked away, knowing that soon enough he'd be back in the tree by her window. And maybe next time he'd make sure she noticed him.

* * *

><p><strong>"So, bartender fill me up,<strong>

**'Cause I'm so sick of being la la la loved."**

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2:** _Let us all remember that Klaus has been suffering from a severe case of loneliness and that's why he's a bit OOC in this. And no offence to Katy Perry fans. Honest.__  
><em>

_Next time . . . **Tyler finds out another way. Oh no! (it'll be much shorter than most of these. Maybe even shorter than the first part of this.)**_

_So, what did y'all think? Was it written okay? Too emotional? Too emotionless? Not enough fluff? Not enough drama? _

_I don't know why I decided to make this one M-rated. It just came to me like this. Anyway, please feel free to review. It would please me greatly. And I'm sorry if you hated it. I know I kind of slid over the destroying of the picture part, but it will actually come up clearer in another one-shot for this series. Be patient, young grasshopper. _

_The song that I alluded to [not "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)"] is "Everything Will be Alright" by The Killers. Great song. Great album, actually. I think it's one of my favourite debut's of all time. _

_Okay, that's it for me until next week. I hope I wrote this well enough for your tastes and I hope you'll tune in next Friday for a less dramatic instalment. _

_You're wonderful and I love you all, thanks for making this worth it. _

_Six down, four to go._

_-LoveIsATemple_


	8. Tyler

**A/N 1:** _Hello again. We're back with a very short instalment. This next guy is in 2nd person present tense, which is a bit weird, but I wanted a challenge. So this one and the next one are going to be written like this. _

_Thanks for the love with the last one, it definitely made me smile. We hit over a hundred follows! I can't believe that._

_I hope you can all keep an open mind for this one as well and don't be afraid to tell me what you thought when you're done. _

_Mistakes are all mine. Please enjoy._

* * *

><p><strong>"And I believe a curse,<strong>

**Holds me in her arms.**

**And the truth of the matter,**

**Is it's all over you."**

**Truth of the Matter | Dashboard Confessional**

* * *

><p><strong>Drabble #7 (of 10) | Tyler<strong>

He stumbles back, not really listening but not able to unhear everything that's just been said to him, spluttered at him. Caroline's speaking, weeping, spewing guilty words at him, and all he can do is stand there, shocked. He wants her to stop, to shut up, to stop telling him all these horrible things, but she won't close her mouth; won't let the bleeding stop.

_Klaus;_ the word surrounds him, hurting him. _I slept with Klaus. _

She's got tears running down her cheeks, melting the makeup placed so perfectly on her face. They look like blood from where he's looking, like razor blades tearing her skin.

Everything's red—the sky, the grass, Caroline.

She takes a step towards him. It's unstable and unclear and she wobbles greatly. Her hand goes out to take his arm, but he finds his legs and moves away. He can't deal with her right now. She's betrayed him, done the one thing he'll never be able to look past.

_Please_, she screams, her voice breaking like the branches swirling around them.

_Please, Tyler_, she asks.

What's the question? What does she want?

_I'm sorry_.

He doesn't believe her, not even with the gutting pain written on her once beautiful face. There's something running through him, adrenaline or maybe it's hatred, that fuels his words. He spits at her, coating her with his poisonous saliva, his corrosive language.

_Shut up!_ he yells, breaking her even more. He watches, is forced to watch, her crumble. Her bones turn to liquid and she spills on the grassy ground in a heap of surrender.

_Why?_ He shouts at her as she tries to calm herself down. He doesn't want her to stop crying though. He's sick and twisted and wants her to feel pain, wants her to feel the guilt, the acid. She's torn and on the verge of a mental breakdown and he's happy about it. If he can be happy about one thing, it's that she's suffering for her sins.

Blonde hair spills on the grassy ground, but everything's red, isn't it? She's got a strawberry tint to her, he could eat her.

_I don't know,_ she answers, but it comes out blubbery and wet.

_Bullshit!_ he tells her.

He's sure only dogs can hear him now, but Caroline, his Caroline, his girl, his hope and his rock, gets up and slaps him across the cheek.

The pain feels good so he eggs her on, begs her to do it again by tantalising her.

_Did it feel good? _he asks_. Did he make you come? Did you call his name? Did he take you to Heaven and back? _

Another slap.

He laughs, a cruel noise that sounds so sinister, so unlike him. She's unlocked this feral side of him, this animalistic part that's been chained his whole life. He's riding on the waves of evil.

_And you loved it, didn't you?_ he teases, so evil, so sinister.

Another slap.

_He made you feel wanted and special. Because you're the only one for him right? You're the only one that can make the biggest baddest vampire in the whole entire world_ feel._ And you get off on that. _

Another slap, one so hard and so fuelled by a hatred he'll never be able to touch that he's thrown to the ground.

_You don't get to preach to me, Tyler_, she warns him, standing over his body, red-looking but dry faced. No more tears, like she's been washed in Johnson and Johnson baby shampoo.

And then she's gone, whisked off by the wind.

He lets out a rueful laugh, startling the remaining birds in the trees. He watches their red wings fly away into the dark night, watches the sharp breeze alter their direction.

Immediately, he wants to run too, tear through his clothes, bend his bones until they snap, and growl until his throat bleeds.

The need to change, to shift into his beastly form, is too overwhelming.

He wants to go to New Orleans, find Klaus, the fucking bastard, tell him off, rip him to pieces. Ask him if it was worth it, to give her the night of her dreams.

* * *

><p>He recognises where he is. It's too bright and nothing's red anymore. Now everything's too clear, too sharp. The animals are too happy and he's too angry.<p>

He smells him. _Him. _He's nearby, alone.

He can smell her on him.

No, not really. His mind is tricking him.

It's painful, it hurts.

But he swears, he can taste her in the air. Her, sweet and beautiful and too good. An angel among them, sent from above to save him. But not only him, it appears.

He knows though. She's just like the rest of them. No angel. Just a wolf overwhelmed by thick, disgusting, wiry wool.

He pads on heavy feet through the woods, crunching leaves and crushing twigs. He's trying to get Klaus's attention, he needs the other hybrid, the one who controlled him for so long, to know he's there. He needs him to quiver, to feel the anger and hatred and turmoil rippling off his skin.

He sees him now, standing by a random tree. He looks like he owns the world and it burns the blood in Tyler's veins.

He snaps one final stick, watches as the splinters fly every which way.

Klaus turns to him, a snarl lifting one side of his stubbornly handsome face.

This is what he has to compete with.

He can't. She may have chosen him some time ago, but now she has this, this king, to worship her and love her and hate her.

Klaus is in front of him before he can react and thrusts him against a tree. Bark shatters around his head and he feels a splitting pain pulse through his skull. He groans as Klaus's hold on his throat tightens.

_Tyler._ Klaus says, fiery and eerily calm. _To what do I owe the pleasure?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: **_It's not lazy writing, I promise. I want to leave it like this. _

_Next time . . . **Putting a new spin on 5x13. **Since this one and the next one are both quite short, you'll get the next chapter sooner rather than later, but you'll also get a new update next Friday. So, two in one week. Yay. **  
><strong>_

_We're getting close to the end, guys. It's kind of sad. But I've got a few bonus chapters, so don't worry. _

_Tell me what you thought, please! I'd love to know. I'm not sure how this one will be taken. _

_Stay amazing, you wonderful people and I will see (but not really) you sometime in the middle of next week._

_Seven down, three to go!_

_-LoveIsATemple_


	9. Loud Voices

**A/N: **_Okay, this was supposed to come out yesterday, but I ended up having to nanny four kids all day and didn't get a chance to publish. Also, I kind of lied about a double update this week. I apparently have to go on vacation this weekend to a place where there's absolutely no internet and no room for a laptop in my suitcase. But I'll try to get the next one out as soon as humanly possible. _

_Thanks so, so much for all the support :) You're all too kind and amazing. _

_To remind you, this drabbley/oneshot deals with **why Caroline shredded Klaus' picture in 5x13. And the answer may shock you. Or maybe it won't. I guess we'll find out.**_

_Please review when you're done so my ego can grow and grow and grow. _

_Because of how rushed this update is, I only got to look over it twice. Mistakes are definitely all mine this time, sorry. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>"So, tell me why we're talking<strong>

**When we dance so good****."**

**Dance So Good | Wakey!Wakey!**

* * *

><p><strong>Drabble #8 (of 10) | Loud Voices<strong>

The voices are too loud. She can't turn them off. They all say the same things, over and over again, rolling around in her mind like thunder, cracking her skull, poking through her eardrums.

_How could you? _

_What were you thinking? _

_He's evil, Caroline. _

_He killed my MOM!_

Nothing helps. No amount of pacing or screaming or feeling guilty rids her head of the accusations, the tortured wails of her friends.

What _was_ she thinking? What made her snap? What transpired between her and the baddest of the bad that suddenly had her thinking it was perfectly fine to throw herself at him?

She was sick and tired of lying, that's what. Her body had been worked up to the point where she couldn't turn away; could no longer ignore the want, the need, the aching, blinding, feral greed. He awakened something in her, and so she did the only logical thing. She pounced.

But now, here she is, suffering for her severe lapse in judgement.

"Caroline Forbes, what the hell are you doing here?"

Caroline lifts her head and sees the wrong Salvatore brother at the door, his black hair hanging low over his eyes as he peers dangerously at her.

She frowns and tightens her jacket around her waist, hoping to somehow protect herself from his wide-eyed glare. "I'm looking for Stefan," she says, irked, peering over Damon's shoulder.

The taller man stands up straighter, blocking her view. "He's not here right now," his words are vicious, his eyes ablaze.

Caroline backs away, one step two steps three steps. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

"I'll tell him you stopped by." He sounds final, like he doesn't want to keep talking to her. She doesn't appreciate him at the best of times, but she's in no mood for his entitlement tonight.

"Let me in. I know he's here," she demands, dropping her hands by her sides and gripping the ends of her jacket.

Damon smirks, and all she can think is it's not the right face, not the right shape of lips.

"Come on, Barbie. Would I lie to you?" He asks with a wave of his eyebrows.

"Yes."

The vampire sneers and stalks up to her. She should move, get out of the way, but she's stubborn, so she stays still and holds his eyes as he towers over her.

"Well, I'm not lying tonight. He's out. As in, he's not here."

Caroline lets her shoulders slump, all her energy washing out of her. She needs to see Stefan, to talk to him, to spill her guts.

"I'm sure I can fill your Stefan needs," he lulls, tilting his head to one side and offering her a pair of puppy dog eyes. Not the right shade of blue, not the right colour eyelashes.

Caroline smiles tightly, her lips threatening to split. "No thanks."

"Aw, give me a break. I'm just as good a therapist as my brooding brother," he tries to convince her. And she thinks, for a second, that he's right. He's been through similar situations; some where he was the person being told off and others where he was the reason someone else got told off. He knows what she's feeling, but if the look on his face tells her anything, it's that he's not willing to _understand. _

"I'd rather die all over again, Damon." And she means it. She doesn't want to be chided again, doesn't want the people who are supposed to support her be the ones telling her how awful she is.

Damon smiles, his eyebrows moving to his hairline. "You made one bad choice," he reminds her. "It's not like you're marrying the guy and running off to the wilds of Louisiana."

"You want me to talk to you?" She asks skeptically, trying to fathom the idea that maybe she has no other choice.

He scoffs. "God no, but if it'll loosen those knots I see throbbing in your shoulders then I'm all . . . ears."

The need to punch him is too overwhelming. Her hand, still in the shape of a fist, unclasps from her jacket and nearly meets his chin, but he's older and faster and has her hands behind her back before she can blink. Hot breath beats on her skin and she wiggles, trying to shake him off, but he just laughs, mocking and cruel.

"Try that again and I'll snap your neck," he warns, his lips brushing her ear. Not the right texture, not the right scent.

"Get off me!" She squeals, the claustrophobic sensation worming its way through her.

Damon relents, dropping her arms and flashing in front of her again. "The offer still stands," he says lightly, like he didn't just threaten to temporarily kill her.

She stares at him, at the way his arms are casually folded across his chest, the way his smirk doesn't quite reach the level of taunting it could.

Caroline takes a breath, and resigns herself.

"Fine," she spits, moving past Damon and into the Salvatore home.

* * *

><p>He pours her some fancy drink from some fancy bottle, handing it to her despite her insistence that she doesn't need it.<p>

"It'll help you open up," he whispers suggestively.

She bites back the urge to try to smack him again. Perhaps she'd be more successful this time. But no, he wants to talk, so they'll talk.

Caroline sips her drink disapprovingly and takes a seat on one of the plush couches, crossing her left leg over her right at the knee and watching as Damon sits in front of her on the other sofa. He swirls the drink in his hand and smoothly gulps it all back, making a satisfied gasping noise when he finishes.

"So, Caroline. Come to spill all your dirty secrets?" He smiles brightly, but there's a hidden scowl flaming by his lips.

"I came to talk to Stefan," she sighs, curling a hand through her hair and slumping back on the sofa, not caring how unladylike the movement is. She's beyond caring about most things at the moment.

"Keep up, Blondie. He's not here. You're stuck with me." He sounds angry all of a sudden and Caroline shoots him a look of disdain.

"Why are you mad? What do you have to be mad at me about?" She asks, her eyebrows pinned at the centre of her forehead. If she keeps at it, she's going to wind up more wrinkles than she can count.

"Why am I mad?" He throws back, his knuckles whitening as he tightens the grip he has on his glass. "I'm mad because you did something really stupid. You're supposed to be the smart one!" He's shouting now, moving his free hand with enthusiasm. "You're supposed to be the distraction, you're not supposed to be distracted!"

She stands up suddenly, acidic anger unearthing itself inside her, and walks in front of Damon, not remembering if she put her drink down or if she's about to crush it in her fist. "Oh my fucking God, would you shut up! I know what I did, okay? I know how fucking stupid it was. It's not like I've suddenly thrown all my inhibitions out the door. And how dare you, Damon Salvatore, tell me that I'm stupid! You're the one that always acts before you think. But the minute someone else does it, someone _like me _who's 'supposed to be' _smart__, _you throw the blame away! Give it a rest, okay? I'm done with this _bullshit_," she finishes with a loud growl, realising now that she's still got her glass in her hand and impulsively throws the remaining liquid in the raven-haired boy's face.

He sputters and wipes his eyes with a loud cackle. Caroline gives him her best death glare and makes a movement to leave, but Damon's vice grip on her wrist keeps her in place.

"What?" She hisses, venom spewing from her saliva.

Damon shakes his head vehemently and Caroline wonders if maybe he's gone insane.

"I'm proud of you," he says sarcastically, releasing his hold on her wrist.

She pulls away from him and stares, confused.

"You obviously needed to get that out," he continues, referring to her outburst.

"Still don't get it," she admits after a moment of silence.

He frowns and sighs, fiddling with the wet patch on his black t-shirt. "You were worked up about the whole 'I slept with the big bad hybrid' thing and I, being the _great _friend that I am, poked and prodded until you snapped."

"So, what? You said all that horrible stuff to me just so I'd shout back?"

The blue-eyed beast, still not the right shade of blue, still not the right monster, nods his head passively. "Don't mention it," he smiles, flirtatiously batting his eyelashes.

Caroline stumbles back a bit and tries to wrap her poor head around what's just happened. This man, this man no less evil than Klaus himself, wants to _help _her?

"Why are you doing this?"

He groans, an annoyed noise that rumbles through Caroline's ribs. "Why am I doing what?"

"Helping me?"

"Can't I just do something nice without people thinking I have ulterior motives?" He questions, eyes widening and smirk falling, tumbling into a place of misplaced anger.

"Ha, I'd hardly call this nice. Besides, you don't like me," she presses, folding her arms and tapping her foot.

"Look, princess, I may not be your biggest fan, and I may _hate_ that bastard you decided to dirty dance with even more than I dislike you, but I also kind of need our little group to stick together at the moment. We've got bigger things on our hands than your silly little escapades with the devil."

Shock passes through the blonde's veins and she lets out the tiniest whimper. Damon rolls his eyes, but she doesn't pay attention. How could it be that the last person she'd ever expect to make her feel better is actually making her feel better?

This—this guy in front of her now looking at her with pity—is the same person who compelled her when she was a human, drank her blood without her consent, teased her and tore her and broke her. And now he's trying to fix it all, trying to kiss her wounds with sour lips.

"Thank you," she says quietly. Damon's head shifts and he eyes her with mistrust. "For helping me. For not thinking I'm some horrible, evil thing."

He throws his head back and laughs mockingly. "I'm hardly one to judge, dear."

Caroline goes and sits back in her spot, crossing her legs like a pretzel. "But still," she insists.

"But still," he agrees. "Now, all we have to do is convince the others that you're terribly sorry about what happened. That you hate Klaus with all your might and never ever plan on sleeping with him again."

Coughing in surprise and embarrassment, Caroline stares daggers at Damon, wishing for an instant she could actually shoot daggers from her eyes. And then embed them deep into his heart.

"What?" She chokes.

"You know," he says cryptically, "we need them to trust you again. So, you'll lie and say it was a mistake and you don't care about him and it'll never happen again." He speaks so lightly, so airy, like it's the easiest thing to do.

But it should be easy, shouldn't it? To persuade people, her friends, that she doesn't care about Klaus?

"How am I supposed to do that?" She asks, because she's not sure she can. Something deep and sinister inside of her doesn't even want to try, doesn't want to even think about _not _caring for the hybrid.

"I get it," Damon assures her. "You do actually like him. I think we all get that."

His emphatic insistence makes her squirm. "I don't like him."

"You do like him, Caroline. But you see, I don't give a fuck. You can like whoever you want. I don't care. But the others, excluding my wonderfully understanding brother, do care. They judge you for your taste in . . . _men_," he mutters with a sharp twist of his lips. Caroline giggles loosely at the way he says 'men' and waits for him to continue. "And in order to get us all back in the swing of things, you'll need to drill it into their heads that you're done with Klaus. Even if you aren't."

"But I—"

Damon holds up a hand, squashing her sentence midway out her mouth. "I don't care if you _can't like Klaus_. It's no secret that you do. It's painfully obvious. But that's not the point here. The point is, lie. Pretend."

Caroline sighs angrily. "It's not that easy," she says, not minding that she's vaguely admitting to Damon Salvatore that she does, in fact, like Klaus. "They've been giving me all these looks. You didn't hear the way Tyler screamed at me, see the look on his face. I've betrayed them all."

"Ugh! They'll get over it eventually. And if not, you _really _need to find better friends." The words sound funny coming from him, but he has a point. Caroline's beginning to understand that, and the thought hurts her chest. "If you want them to shut up, don't give them anything to talk about. You're a good liar, Caroline Forbes. You know how to make it believable. I mean, I only just started suspecting that maybe you're not a natural blonde."

She has to laugh at that. If she doesn't laugh, she'll cry, and Damon's doing a good job of making her want to do both.

"Tell me how to convince them, then," she orders helplessly, burying her face in her hands.

"It _is_ easy," he says. Caroline startles, his voice is in her ear. Not the right accent, not the right timbre. She looks to her right and sees he's moved from his original spot so he's instead sitting next to her. "Just get rid of all the incriminating evidence."

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: **_Totally never would have happened, but hey, artistic license. And I don't know when it would have occurred in the episode, but we'll just use our imaginations. We're clever people like that._

_Review if you wanna, I won't hold it against you if you don't. _

_Thanks for reading and I hope you'll come back for the next chapter. Which will be **Klaroline remembers their time in the woods. **Such fun!_

_Oh my goodness, eight down, two to go! _

_See ya next time!_

_-LoveIsATemple_


	10. Hail to One Hundred

**A/N: **_So apparently as soon as humanly possible means more than a week, but I have my reasons. They're all boring and sad, though. Like, my friends' just announced they're separating after having been married for five years, and_ House _just got put on Netflix instant streaming. _

_Thank you so incredibly very much to each and every single one of you. You all brighten my dark days and make my parents wonder why on earth their daughter looks like she's about to throw up from excitement. _

_This is the penultimate chapter, guys. Now, and I'm being serious here (because seriousness is a big part of fan fiction), but the next chapter is **Klaus breaks his promise** and I have two possible scenarios: one angsty, one carefree and funny (believe it or not, but I can be funny. I'm British for crying out loud! I was bred on humour and tea. And apparently stereotypes). Please, please, please, (even if you hated this entire thing and are just waiting for the next instalment) tell me which you'd prefer. **Funny or Angsty**. I've got both planned out, but I need your input for this one. I want to make people happy._

_Remember, all mistakes are mine, I love you all, and please review telling me which option you want more. Oh, and this is definitely rated **M**. **Klaroline remembers their steamy first time. And it's a continuation of the first chapter "In the Dark." Have fun.**_

* * *

><p><strong>"Oh, we stood there, <strong>

**awkward and youthful, we tangled;**

**a piece of my soul escaped.**

**Oh, we are restless and tired of s****leeping with giants, **

**a modern mankind with their egos of fire, and it seems like**

**it's been a lifetime, a lifetime we've waited for.**

**A simple question kid, 'are you with me or not at all?'"**

**Sleeping With Giants (Lifetime) | The Academy Is . . .**

* * *

><p><strong>Drabble #9 (of 10) | Hail to One Hundred<strong>

Someone was talking to her. She could hear their voice whirling around in her head and she lazily opened her eyes, shifting slightly to figure out where the noise was coming from. Light streamed in from the hotel window, sending shots of energy into her veins as she continued looking for the source of the sound. Her eyes landed on a figure sitting at the end of the bed with crossed legs and a scowl.

"I told you not to move," he said, obviously annoyed.

Caroline grinned tiredly, moving her hands to rub at her eyes, feeling the crumbling sleep free her eyelashes. When she finished her stretching routine, she sat up and spotted Klaus still frowning in her direction, sketchpad in his lap and a graphite pencil twirling between his fingers.

"I was asleep," she defended, her sleepy voice removing the unhappy look from his face and replacing it with a dimpled smirk. "Sorry I couldn't carry out your demands in the midst of my deep slumber."

She rotated her head to one side and looked out the open window, pretending not to notice when Klaus scooted next to her. A soft breeze rustled through the trees outside and into the room, and Caroline was forced to take in the scent. Paris smelled fresh, it smelled sweet. Like sugar and love and happy memories. And Klaus.

He was breathing on her, watching her intently as she intently watched the outdoors, spying the world spinning around them.

It was getting harder to ignore him.

His presence was something she'd never quite get used to, but now she didn't have to worry about people judging her for her apparent sins against humanity. This wasn't a dream or a sick fantasy plaguing her ailing mind. She no longer _had _to ignore him.

"You could make it up to me," he whispered gruffly, sending a sharp shiver down her spine.

Caroline turned cautiously and narrowed her eyes at him, loving the darkness taking over the blue of his irises. "Or, you could make it up to me?" She suggested, nipping his clean-shaven cheek with broken lips.

His eyes slammed shut at the contact and she felt a light static shock her lips. They really did create sparks.

"Why would I have to make it up to you?" He asked, opening one eye carefully.

A giggle escaped her mouth and danced around his face. She saw him inhale as he opened his other eye to stare at her. The look he gave startled her. It always did. Ever since she'd swallowed her pride, travelled to where she knew he was hiding with a suitcase in hand, and asking, begging really, for him to take her away.

She remembered it like it was yesterday, when in reality it had been a good ten years. But time meant nothing to an immortal. Either way, she recalled stumbling up the steps to his place in Louisiana, banging on the door as the winds raged outside, as the sky sputtered rain and lightning; calling his name when no one showed to let her in; deciding that knocking was useless and just barging inside; whooshing all around the place, darting in and out the decadent rooms until she spotted him standing at an easel, wearing a paint-covered shirt and a shocked expression.

Neither of them had dared move, but she had watched the emotions beat him like a mugger looking for something good. Pain and anger, frustration and bewilderment, love and adoration. They were all there, just for her. He'd dropped his paintbrush, sending spurts of yellow onto the floor. Simultaneously, they looked back at the painting. She was only half-surprised to see herself staring back, but her heart still threatened to break. Threatened like it even had a choice. It didn't.

Without thinking, she'd flashed over to where he stood frozen and not nearly as confident as she'd expected. She'd imagined doing this for forty years, barging into his life, but none of those day dreams included him alone, and none included his starstruck eyes.

_Take me away,_ she'd whined, putting her hands on his face, smothering her thumbs under his eyes as his tear ducts started overflowing. He still said nothing, made no move to truly acknowledge her presence. A voice in the back of her mind had wondered where everyone was. Rebekah, Elijah, _Haley_? None of them were there, it was as if he'd been abandoned. Like a young boy thrown into the dark dungeon of his room by angry parents too tired and too annoyed to bother fixing the problem.

When he finally did move it was a sudden, frightening thing. He'd clutched to her wrists and wrenched them off his face and asked, in a voice too quiet for the biggest, baddest hybrid, the most immortal being, _Are you really here? Is it really you? _

She'd wheezed out a _yes_ and watched caution overtake his features.

_I don't believe you, _he'd spat, gripping her flesh tighter, digging his fingernails into the veins on the inside of her wrists.

_It's me, I swear._

_Prove it._

_How?_

_Kiss me._

_Kiss you?_

_Kiss—_

She hadn't let him finish, cutting him off mid-sentence and sealing their lips together. A million years could have passed, wars could have been won and lost around them, and they wouldn't have noticed.

They let go of each other and she saw his smile. It was small and afraid.

_Where do you want to go? _He'd asked.

She had grinned with all her teeth, and sighed, _Anywhere._

"Caroline," Klaus murmured, stealing her away from her memories. She looked at him guiltily. "Why would I have to make it up to you?" He asked again.

"Because," she stated. "It's my birthday and you woke me up before eight. Not acceptable."

"Mm," he agreed. "But it's not every day a girl turns one hundred. I want you to enjoy the experience as much as possible."

He placed a finger under her chin and forced her head up. She complied, staring deep into his eyes, flicking her gaze between them hurriedly, like she was waiting for them to close and never open again.

"I would enjoy it more if you'd let me sleep," she pouted.

Klaus laughed, another thing she'd never get used to. "You're a vampire, love. You don't need sleep."

Nodding her head, she creeped closer to him. His face went out of focus as her lips parted.

"But do you know what I do need?" She flirted.

Klaus gulped. "What?" He asked breathlessly.

"Food."

Before she'd even managed to sound the heavy 'D' at the end of her single word, Klaus disappeared from the room, abandoning her and his sketch. The door slammed shut as he ran to fulfil her needs and she flashed to the window, catching sight of a tall figure blurring across the square.

* * *

><p>They had been literally everywhere in the world. There was no piece of land, no underwater kingdom that the two had not seen and explored.<p>

Caroline used to think of herself as a homebody. If it wasn't Mystic Falls, it was Washington D.C. But after Klaus had showed up at the movie theatre sixty years ago, she'd wanted nothing more than to escape her confined life. What was it he told her, that there was a whole world outside, just waiting for her to experience it? Something like that.

He'd started them off small by taking her around the United States and Canada, but soon enough she was rooting for aeroplanes and chunnels and she knew he couldn't say no to her.

Caroline loved all the places they went, but Paris was definitely her favourite.

When she'd mentioned the week before that she was approaching her hundredth birthday, she immediately knew where he'd be taking her.

One reason she appreciated Paris more than anywhere else was the cuisine. Not the people, of course, they had blood banks for that. The real food; the crepes, the breads, the cheeses. Paris had it best, and Klaus knew such things, so when he returned moments later with a bag full of pastries pinched between his lips and a couple cups of steaming coffee in hand, Caroline got up, dressed only in Klaus' t-shirt from the previous day, and walked over to him, happy to have her Paris breakfast.

He waved his free hand at her and mumbled something incomprehensible. Caroline smiled at his puckered eyebrows, taking the bag from his mouth.

"Sit back on the bed," he ordered when he got his lips free.

Scoffing, Caroline stayed put. "And what if I don't want to?" She challenged.

"I have ways of making you do things," he informed her with a quirked eyebrow and lifted lip. God, he looked sexy when he was trying to intimidate her. This was her life; travelling around the world with a man who could never die and who seemed pretty intent on loving her for the rest of his miserable days.

"It'll be difficult to make me do anything when you've got coffee in your hands," she reminded him, pointing to the cups in their cardboard holder.

In a flash of wild colour, Klaus dropped the coffee on the small table by the door before dashing right back to where she was standing. "Cups can easily be placed elsewhere."

"I'm quaking in fear," she whispered mockingly, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.

His smirk grew until his entire face was blown up in a smile. "Good."

He was fast, she knew, but her brain still forced a squeal out of her lungs when Klaus gathered her up in his arms and plopped her on the bed. His body hung over hers, his breath hitting her face harshly. Silence filled the room, like the open window was pouring in muteness instead of air.

Klaus erupted in a roll of laughter, moving to one side and staring down at Caroline. She glowered up at him, unimpressed by his seemingly unwarranted giggle-fest.

"What?" She asked bluntly.

The hybrid shook his head and sighed, lifting his forearm so his elbow dug firmly in the mattress, and rested his temple on his fist. "Nothing," he tried, but Caroline's eyes were slits and she had him wrapped around her finger. "Okay," he relented, "I was just remembering."

"That's never a good sign," she warned, placing a gentle hand on one side of his face where his cheek dipped into a dimple.

"How is it not a good sign?" He asked in mock offence.

Caroline continued smoothing circles on his cheek. "You're over a thousand years old. There are too many things you could be remembering. Battles, friends, hearts ripped from chests, _old lovers _. . ." she trailed off with a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders.

"Old lovers? Are you afraid of them?" He asked, running his hand down her thigh to the underside of her knee.

He could probably sense, smell even, the way her blood immediately started moving faster at his touch, but she didn't falter. "There are so many. You tell me if I should fear them."

Frowning, Klaus squeezed her skin, causing her unnecessary breath to hitch. "What have I told you before, love, about all these past women?" His voice was gruff and possessive. A long time ago these qualities in his tone would have turned her off, but now they managed to magnify her want tenfold.

"Remind me again," she said in a last ditch effort to qualm her greedy sex drive.

"They are nothing compared to you. You are like filtered spring water to a thirsty man," he told her enthusiastically. "A banquet fit for the entire world to a man growing weak and brittle from hunger. A rich flow of crimson blood to a lustful vampire. You are mine, do not forget that."

The apex between her legs was burning with liquid fire, liquid need, as Klaus' fingers danced up the inside of her thigh.

"Us," Klaus murmured suddenly, tracing odd circles and words into her skin, tattooing her with his short cropped fingernails.

"What?" She huffed through gritted teeth, not enjoying the satisfied smirk on his face. But it lit up his eyes, and those were the same eyes that used to look at her and her old friends with such pain and sadness, so she couldn't really complain.

"I was remembering us," he explained. "Do you remember the first time, sweetheart?"

"Which first time?" She asked, though she had a feeling she knew what he was referring to, but his hand crept just that much closer to her heat and her mind was beginning to go fuzzy and she wasn't so sure she could trust her brain at the moment.

"Is there another first time I'm unaware of?" He teased, moving his fingers to her other leg.

She let out an unrelenting moan and tried to gather her wits. "I like to think we had two first times."

"Oh?" He questioned, the minty word slapping against her ear.

"Yes," she hissed as he pinched her skin. "Time number one back in Mystic Falls eight decades ago. Then D.C. fifty years ago."

"So not three first times?" He asked, his voice low and husky. His lips brushed her ears as his fingers twirled like ghosts relearning an old dance in front of her centre. "Because I recall the time in New Orleans a mere decade ago being rather . . ." he paused, for dramatic effect if nothing else. Caroline would kill him after he relented and helped her finish. " . . . ravenous."

"Klaus." The need present in her own voice sounded too whiny, but then again, it was her birthday. He wasn't allowed to tease her like this.

"What darling?" He smirked at her innocently when she ceased her movements on his face and instead clutched his shoulders. Her nails were sharper and lathered in green nail polish, it hurt more to get stabbed by them, but he kept his stoic look.

She whimpered uncaringly as he dragged up farther. A sticky substance spread on her skin and she could smell her own arousal, but he had yet to actually _touch her_. And it was slowly killing her.

Imagine that; being told that you're going to live forever provided no one stabs you in the heart with a stake, surviving through a thousand different supernatural occurrences, managing to not get stabbed in the heart with a stake for a hundred years, and yet somehow wind up dying during dangerous foreplay.

What a way to go.

But all Caroline's thoughts halted when a hot finger pressed against her fleshy heat. Her back arched off the bed and she didn't see Klaus' egotistical grin, the feeling of him rubbing smooth circles over her wetness too intense and far too good. She was suddenly glad she hadn't gotten a chance to put her underwear on.

"You never answered me," he said quickly, fervently. He sounded like he was getting ready to fight. It was his game voice, the one he used when he was confronting the various men and women of the world who wanted him dead. The same voice that he hushed to her when he touched her.

Caroline held no capacity to speak as he circled his finger around her entrance tantalisingly. All she could accomplish was a string of growls and moans. It didn't matter, she knew he wouldn't give in yet. He didn't want her to just come. He wanted her to explode.

"Do you remember our first time? Our real first time?" Klaus asked, adding a second finger to the mix, sliding around slick skin. Her brain understood the words, but her mouth wouldn't move, so she decided a nod would have to suffice.

"Good," he soothed, his face warm as it hovered above her heavy-lidded eyes. "I remember it well," he continued, his fingers still managing to swirl up a storm in her lower belly. "Banging against trees, you shouting my name as I ran my hands across your breasts." She closed her eyes and listened, the friction sparking between her thighs shooting tingles up and down her body as his sexy accent told her all.

"I remember how you practically tore through my clothes. I remember how I literally tore through yours until we were panting and groaning and begging. Do you remember, Caroline," the way he lulled her name made her hips jerk and she heard the smile in his voice as he spoke again, "when I pushed two fingers to your pink flesh, when I slid them inside of you?" He did so now, finally giving up his torturous fight and sinking his fingers, well coated with her arousal, deep inside.

Caroline moaned and lifted off the bed, turning her face to look at him. Klaus was watching her with lustful eyes as his fingers pumped in and out of her, a determined tint to his smirk.

"You cried out then, loud and clear. People's ears must have been on fire, quite like you and I. Do you remember," he said gruffly, his hard length pressing into her leg, "when I grabbed you and twisted your legs around my waist and thrust your back to another tree? You were high on endorphins by that time, too elated to feel any sort of pain from the rough bark stabbing into your skin."

His wrist jerked faster, his thumb finding her clit and furiously rubbing at the nub until Caroline's bones turned to ice cream and her brain fell to jelly. Her face contorted in pleasure as he worked her in a smooth, fast pattern.

Parts of her wondered if maybe they were playing a game. That one day he'd wake up with her strapped to him and realise that he, in fact, did not want this life. That he'd decide to leave her, abandon her. Sometimes that thought was so overwhelming that she'd push away until he brought her back with words of love and eternal devotion. Saying that they were an undying flame; a trick candle on the cake of a naive ten-year-old, staying strong no matter how many winds came their way.

Other times she worried that sex wouldn't be as enjoyable after a time. But those thoughts always killed themselves whenever he'd be remotely near her.

She was alive with his touch, right now and always.

Everything felt so amazingly good. Sweat broke out on her skin, her nipples rubbed against the fabric of his shirt. Her head swam with thoughts, with wanting to explain in detail how he made her feel. But her tongue was lead and her mouth was too busy opening and closing like she was fish on dry land, begging to be thrown back into the water.

"Do you remember how you dug your fingernails into my shoulders much like you're doing now? Or how immediately after splitting my flesh with your nails you looked at me with the eyes of a sinner condemned to live their life in eternal, painful pleasure? Because I remember that look," he informed her greedily, pulling out of her in languid strokes as she contracted loosely around his fingers. She wanted to kiss him, but she didn't want him to stop talking. "It was the look that told me you felt the same way. So I gave in then, didn't I, love?" Caroline quivered beneath him.

"You're so tight," he observed, but it didn't stop him from quickening his pace as he continued his story, and it definitely _did _send another jolt of electric desire through her blood and all the way to her centre. "I gave in then, yes." He agreed with himself, dropping his head from its perch on his fist and bringing his lips to her jaw, nibbling his way in hot, open-mouthed, tongue-filled kisses along her throat.

Her mind went completely blank. She could only feel his fingers and his mouth and his twisted love.

"I warned you, I said there was no going back. I said to you that this was it, this was you telling me that you felt the same way, that you _loved _me back," Klaus grumbled erotically into her ear. She didn't often hear him say the word 'love' and even in the midst of his orgasm-inducing digits caressing her inner walls, her dead heart found a way to constrict with emotion. She moved her head to the side a bit more and captured his lips in a shameless kiss, deepening their connection with tongues and mouths and minty breath.

"And then I took the plunge, so to speak," he mumbled against her lips. She giggled briefly, caught up by his playful choice of words. Trust him to always go the funny route when things were getting too sentimental. "And then I fucked you."

She would have scolded him, would have yelled at him about using that word, but just as he said it, just as his voice carried to her ears and hit her mushed brain, his fingers curled inside of her one last time, hitting something rugged and sending her thoughts reeling.

"Come, Caroline," he called as her hips started moving frantically, searching for a release. Digging her fingers into his curly-haired scalp, she listened as he whimpered sorely. With a strangled mewl, Caroline grabbed his lips again as she rode on his fingers, coming with a cry muffled only by their glued mouths.

She trembled with residual aftershocks, her legs shuddering and her clit throbbing. He rolled over on his back and slipped his fingers out one final time. Caroline turned away for a brief moment, knowing Klaus was only going to lap at his fingers with his thick tongue. She'd seen him do a lot of things, but that was one she didn't exactly enjoy witnessing.

Rolling onto her stomach, Caroline draped an arm over Klaus' belly, carefully slipping her hand under the fabric of his shirt until it was placed directly where his heart used to beat.

He shifted under her, settling one palm on her back and the other over her own hand.

She rested her head on his chest, listening as he breathed contentedly and watching the world transform outside the hotel room window.

Paris smelled sweet again and she caught the scent of the food and coffee they'd ignored so cruelly. But this was better than food. This was even better than coffee. This was home, and home was Klaus.

"I remember. I remember it all," she said.

He nodded against her messy hair, his cheek catching fly aways. "Happy birthday, Caroline."

* * *

><p><strong>"Are we wasting time, or is it wasting us?<strong>

**It's been a lifetime waiting for now, now.**

**Well, you've got to find a way**

**Before you fold in."**

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: **_Do you get the title? Caroline's turning one hundred and it's also remembering when they had sex . . . in the hundredth episode of TVD. I'm a clever girl. And I know that I'm horrible at writing these M-rated scenes, but I am trying to challenge myself more. Maybe it's paying off? Not yet? No?_

_Regarding the lyrics, I just love that song. And that entire album. Sadly, the band is no longer together and William Beckett and the other boys are off doing their own thing, but buy _Santi _if you get the time. It's their best record, in my personal opinion. Which, I understand, means nothing, but still. _

_Alrighty then, don't forget to tell me what you think and vote on what the next chapter should be emotion-wise! It would help me out so much. Perhaps that's cheating, but ah well. As Doctor House always says, "everybody lies." _

_Til next time, ladies and gents,_

_-LoveIsATemple_


	11. To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Pt 1

**A/N:** _Yes, I am back after a very long break that can only be attributed to finals and writer's block. Both suck, but I finally got this done. Hallelujah. I think I'm done making promises about updating. But yeah, sorry for the overly long wait._

_This is a two-parter, mainly because it go so freaking long and I didn't want you guys to have to read nine thousand words at once when I could easily just break it in two. The other part will be posted later today when I get it edited. Because you guys voted, this is less angst-ridden than most of my one-shots, especially the second part. _

_Thank you for being patient and I do sincerely hope you enjoy the last two updates before the bonus chapters. _

_All mistakes are mine (there are probably a lot), and I suppose this first part can be considered a little on the M side. _

* * *

><p><strong>"I'm working hard on walking out<strong>

**Shoes keep sticking to the ground."**

**Backwards Walk | Frightened Rabbit**

* * *

><p><strong>Drabble #9.5 (of 10) | To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Pt. 1<strong>

This is wrong, everything about it is wrong. She shouldn't be here with him. He shouldn't have showed up. It was a stupid move because they are so bad at saying no to each other.

Once again, she finds her back hitting a tree (that same old fucking tree). She groans hungrily, twisting her arms around his neck and dragging him as close as he possibly can be. He accommodates her well, slipping his hands to her hips, gripping her to him and creating a devilish spark that runs through her.

There is an intenseness to the kiss that hadn't been there when he'd promised he'd leave forever. Unlike then when it was playful and teasing, it is heated and utterly damaging. He tears through her lips with pleasure, sucking and nipping and drawing out moan after moan from Caroline, her insides exploding a little more every time his stubble scrapes her mouth.

This is wrong.

The way he grinds his pelvis against hers is wrong. The excited squeals that somehow escape her lungs are wrong. The primal tint to every movement, every sound, every thought is wrong, wrong, wrong. But she cannot stop.

She can't stop his hand from ripping her jeans' button off with a muted grunt that she swallows whole and makes a part of her own body. There is no stopping the wind from being sucked away when he less than subtly shoves her jeans down and let his fingers play with the wetness that somehow has replaced the barren desert that is her centre. And she definitely can't stop from saying his name as he rubs all the right places, pulling more wrong words from her lips.

"Klaus," she wheezes breathlessly, breaking their frenzied kiss. The world has gone fuzzy and he isn't helping at all.

He takes the lack of her lips on his as an invitation to nuzzle down her neck, tracing his nose and mouth in wet, sloppy kisses against her collarbone. A tearing noise tells her he's managed to rip her blouse with his teeth, revealing her braless state, and she wonders aimlessly if they will ever have an encounter that doesn't end in someone breaking _something_.

Growling like the alpha he is, Klaus mumbles something about exhibitionists and licks a tantalising trail against her sensitive breast, taking her nipple between his teeth in a show of power.

"Oh, God," Caroline pants, sinking her nails into Klaus' head as he switches to swirling a hot tongue around the bud instead. She feels him smirk against her skin, a tremble washing through her body that indicates he is about to say something.

"Not quite, love," he corrects, moving to her neglected breast and lathering it with warped affection.

She lets her head hit the tree bark, not caring about how dirty her hair will be after this excursion, and tries not to smile, though she fails rather miserably.

Releasing her from the hold he has on her core, Klaus goes from rubbing furious circles over her clit to biting his nails into her back. He finishes on her breasts, choosing to instead capture her mouth again, and take with it her glorious smile.

She wants to beg him to touch her again, to fill her this time and get her off with just his fingers, but just as she's about to open her mouth and speak, he lets go of her entirely, leaning back a mere inch and stares so longingly at her that she almost sobs.

The crackling sound of a zipper yanking down pulls them both away from their staring contest. Caroline watches Klaus' nimble fingers drag the metal, but closes her eyes when he starts tugging his own trousers down, knowing that in a few seconds, or milliseconds if she knows Klaus at all, she'll be riding on the purest waves of evil, and she can't find the strength to care.

* * *

><p>Caroline's eyes shoot open. Her mother's house is dark save for the TV screen bouncing with bright colours as it displays the film she'd been watching before falling asleep. She blinks at the voices on the television, her eyes struggling to focus.<p>

Nobody else is home. The sheriff has taken a nightshift, leaving her dear daughter all alone, which apparently gives Caroline the right to have crazy sex dreams about the dangerous, Original hybrid. Typically, Caroline loves the summer holidays, but either it's the heat or Caroline seriously needs to get laid, because these dreams are becoming incessant.

In past years, Caroline would always find something to occupy her time as the humid Virginian air took over Mystic Falls, but she finds herself in no mood to do much of anything since finishing her second year at university. Friends still call 'round. Matt especially won't let up until she hangs out with him at least once a week. Elena is usually too busy teasing the Salvatore brothers to notice her, but occasionally comes out to play. Bonnie . . . who knows what Bonnie's doing. Talking to ghosts, probably. Something Caroline would rather keep her distance from.

Miss Forbes and herself have had a few mother/daughter bonding nights, watching terrible movies and eating greasy pizza.

Being home is nice. It means a different kind of freedom from the one she's experienced at college. There, she is another version of herself; a careful, precise version. Here, she is Caroline Forbes: sheriff's daughter/badass vampire. Everyone knows her in Mystic Falls. They knew her blonde tresses, her blue eyes, her long legs.

Getting away from the supernatural is great too. They've been in the clear since summer began. She keeps herself on her toes, though. At all times. She carries around little trinkets to help protect herself because she doesn't always want to fend off evil with her strength and teeth. Sometimes she wants a little fun, and mace spray is always fun.

Outside, the trees are rustling their green leaves, preening themselves for the glorious sunshine that is to meet them in the early hours of morning. They make sweet music, she notices as she tries to clear her mind from her terrible dream. Or maybe it was a fantastic nightmare.

Sweat beads on her forehead, spilling down her face. The air conditioning must have turned itself off at some point, she is boiling underneath her thin blanket on the sofa. But perhaps she's just hot. There is a distinctive wetness slicked against her thighs and she has only one explanation for it, however devastating an explanation it might be.

It's been nearly two years since she's last seen Klaus. The dreams had started suddenly the minute she arrived home this year. Something about this place, these rooms, but probably just Mystic Falls in general, reminds her of him in the weirdest, most sensual way. Her daydreams are full of him, just the same as her nights. It's almost unbearable.

Almost.

As her eyes drift closed once more, her arms gathering the light sheet covering her body up to her chin, a small creak in the floorboards outside startles the sleeping beauty. Living with oversensitive hearing often causes Caroline anxiety in the night, especially considering the hellish battles she's fought, but she is pretty invincible and noises seldom frighten her.

But the squeak radiating from just outside the house sounds so purposeful and precise that her whole body goes rigid in preparation for an attack

Her eyes have now adjusted to the mild darkness in her home and she can see shadows lining the walls, the trees swaying against the breeze and dancing across the paint, mixing with the figures on her TV.

She props herself up on her elbows, shifting her head from side to side, and projects her hearing to figure out if she can capture anymore disturbances in the house's foundation.

Another creak resounding through the wooden floor shoots Caroline carefully off the couch. She lands delicately on her toes, contemplating what to do. She can go explore, there is definitely a presence in the house that isn't supposed to be there. Or maybe she has just been watching too many horror films.

How ironic, her getting frightened from a stupid thriller when she has survived much worse.

Her life is better equipped with danger than those movies, but she still managed to cower in fear hours after seeing _Paranormal Activity 1 _and _2 _back to back.

Scurrying to her room, shutting the door, and crawling beneath her covers is the best solution. Nothing can really hurt her and there is a ninety-nine percent chance she is freaking herself out for no reason.

Either way, her inner adrenaline junkie prays for something to jump out of the shadows and challenge her to a duel.

God, she is a sick creature.

Facing her makeshift bed, she lifts a tentative foot and makes up her mind to sleep it off, sure she is simply messing with her own head, only to hear yet another delicious complaint from the porch floorboards.

With renewed determination, she turns back to her front door, swearing for a second there is something moving outside, and eases her legs to the doorway.

She grabs the handle silently and is about to swing the door open wide when a loud jingle fills the room, lights flashing on the ceiling. A loud gasp escapes her lungs and she places a sweaty hand on her heaving chest as if to calm the unnecessary, sudden onslaught of panic-attack-esque breaths. Groaning in frustration and annoyance at her childish reaction, she abandons her conquest for danger and approaches the coffee table, recognising clearly the smiling face on her cell phone's screen.

"Matt, this better be worth the heart attack you just gave me," she scolds through gritted teeth, wiping her free hand along her damp forehead and wiping the residual moisture on her thin, pale blue camisole.

The blond boy laughs at her from wherever he is at 12:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning, the airy noise relaxing Caroline's taut muscles. "You can't have a heart attack, Care. It's impossible."

Sighing dramatically, Caroline plops on the couch and lies back, letting her hair blow out around her head. "I can feel like I'm having a heart attack," she informs him. "But really, I was asleep. Any reason you decided to call me so late?"

There's no reply at first, and Caroline thinks for a moment the call dropped, but something flutters by her house again and she realises Matt's hesitating. He needs to tell her something, but he knows she won't want to hear it.

"Matt," she says lowly, warningly. "What is it?"

Matt coughs awkwardly, the noise garbled through the phone. Caroline's mind starts buzzing with all the different possibilities.

Maybe everyone's dead and Matt's calling to tell her she has to run. Maybe there's something wrong with her mom. Or with Bonnie. Or _him_.

"Care," he says, stopping her racing thoughts. "Rebekah's in town." And then bringing them right back to the brink of exploding.

"What?" She laughs in disbelief. Caroline frowns. "No, she's in New Orleans. With the rest of her family."

Rebekah can't be in Mystic Falls. It does not bode well for them. Not even for innocent Matt. This is bad. If Matt's right and she's here, that means trouble is on its way. Unless it's already here, dancing with their oblivious shadows.

"Caroline, she's here. I know she is."

Caroline stands up and angrily stomps her foot. "How do you know this, Matt?"

"Because…" he begins sheepishly. "She's sitting in front of me at the Grill."

Clapping a hand over her eyes, Caroline sucks in a deep breath. "Is she forcing you to call me? Is this some ransom phone call? Are you in danger? Do you need me to come?" She starts for the front door again, swiping her car keys off their hook and reaches for the doorknob.

"No, no," he says quickly and Caroline drops her hand, her keys clanging together, ringing in her ears and filling her head with scratchy music. "I'm not in any kind of danger. I just wanted to warn you."

"Warn me about what?" She asks, exasperated. This can't end well. For anyone. "That you're with an Original? Having a normal, casual conversation? Leave, Matt. Don't let her do anything to you."

"Come on, Caroline, I can take care of myself," he chides, and Caroline knows he's right, but this is Rebekah. This is an Original vampire. One with daddy issues and mommy issues and brother issues. "I wanted to warn you about Klaus."

"Klaus?" She wheezes, her keys flying to the ground. They clatter noisily, cutting the wooden boards.

Matt's voice is muffled and she realises he's not talking to her. She hears a higher pitched voice replying and tries to catch what Rebekah's saying to Matt, but she's not able to.

"Caroline," Matt says. "Bekah says Klaus followed her here. He's not in a good place at the moment. You should be careful."

"Is this some practical joke, Matt? It's _not _funny!" She bites, picking her feet off the ground and pacing around her living room. Is Klaus out there, looking for her? "He promised he'd never come back," she adds lamely, rubbing her cheek. Why does her life have to suck? Why does the Original hybrid have to be stalking_ her_?

"He's here, somewhere," he guarantees. "Bekah's worried about him."

"Stop calling her that," Caroline sighs, her eyes sealing shut. "I can't wrap my head around any of this, and you calling her that is not helping."

Matt ruffles a broken laugh. "Sorry."

"What do I do, then? He can just walk in here. I have no protection from him."

Caroline nervously walks to the sofa and crumples into the cushion, curling her legs beneath her and laying her head on one of the throw pillows.

"Care, he's not going to hurt you," Matt says. "He likes you too much. I just wanted you to be aware that he might stop by. Bek—Rebekah thinks you could help."

"Help?" She asks incredulously. "Help how?"

There's some rustling on the other line and the next words come from Rebekah's mouth. "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. I'm certain he's coming for you, and, as much as I loathe to admit it, he listens to you."

Caroline shakes her head, groaning. "I haven't seen your damn brother in nearly two years. We haven't spoken since you guys were…last here…and you think I can talk him out of doing something stupid? He listens to no one, Rebekah. You know that," she spits, wishing she could wrap her long fingers around the Brit's neck and choke the life out of her.

"You, Caroline. He listens to you," Rebekah insists, the insinuation giving Caroline a headache. "You deal with him well. Help my brother, for all our sake's."

Caroline sits up and stares at the TV. "What's wrong with him. Can I at least know that?" If she feigns calm long enough, eventually she'll actually be calm. Right?

"He's being dramatic," Rebekah says.

Caroline smiles sarcastically. "Great start. Really great start."

"I could end your life in the blink of an eye, Caroline, remember that," Rebekah warns with a low growl.

"I've never been afraid of you."

"I could make you afraid."

"Promise?" Caroline asks with a curl of her lip.

Rebekah cackles cruelly, but her words are serious. "Klaus is struggling to come to terms with another failed attempt to win New Orleans. He's angry that he's been beaten."

Her stomach clenches. Angry Klaus and her do not mix well. She doesn't want him there. He can't be there. It's not right. He promised and a man like him should keep the damn promises he makes.

"Rebekah, I can't do anything," she says, oddly upset. _Stop it, Caroline. He's bad. He left, supposedly forever. You should be pissed. _But she knows way deep down that she isn't mad, and it's killing her.

"Please," the Original begs, such a weird sound coming from someone who has brought entire worlds to their knees.

"Why should I help? He's a big boy, he can clean up his own mess. Give me one good reason why I should be doing this." She's standing on her last leg now. Klaus, he excites her. Will always excite her. She wants desperately to say no, to have nothing to do with him ever again. He is the thing she shouldn't go near, the poisonous leaf on the tree of life. The forbidden fruit. But he tastes so sweetly bad, and she has always loved bad.

Sick. She is sick.

"Because you miss him. There. Talk to Matt," Rebekah replies sternly and without room for interruption. Caroline starts to speak, to object, but then Matt is apologising for Rebekah and her crassness, and now she has to say it's all okay when really, it's not.

"It's fine, Matt," she sighs, carding her fingers through her mussed hair. "Weirder things have happened to me."

She hopes Matt is okay, sitting across from his summer love and talking about evil, hybrid brothers and what they had for lunch that day.

"Be careful, Caroline," he tells her softly, like he used to, and it sounds so good and inviting and warm that she has no choice other than to say yes, she will be okay, and yes, she will help because what else is there to do? She can't avoid him; if he's looking for her, he'll find her.

This is messed up. The whole situation.

Did God have a stroke when he brought her and Klaus together? She hopes so, because no one in their right mind would stick them together. If they had sense, they'd shove them in completely opposite directions and make sure they never crossed paths. Ever.

But that's not how it happens, not in her world. Everything's twisted here, everything's backwards. Wrong is right; or at least it feels right. And good, well, what's the appeal in goodness? It's too clean, and she is far too dirty.

"Get back to whatever you and your vampire girlfriend were doing, Matt. I'm strong, I can do this," she says with a false smile. Nerves are biting her from the inside out, but she's always been the one best at faking serenity.

Matt clicks off and she's left alone again, except she has a strange feeling someone is watching her. There are eyes burning on every inch of bare skin she possesses. Tomorrow, she will awaken to find her flesh consumed by holes.

_Calm, Caroline. Be calm. _

She can handle Klaus. She can—maybe—handle angry Klaus. She prays Rebekah isn't wrong.

Resigning herself completely to the fact that she cannot in any way escape this inevitable fate, Caroline carefully places her phone on the coffee table and instead grabs ahold of the remote control, her thumb pressing buttons until the film starts over. She sits back against the sofa, telling her muscles one by one to relax.

She will wait for him here, on the couch, watching her movie. He can come inside if he desires, scare her for real. Or he can continue to haunt her from the outside. Whichever the Devil prefers, she is not fussy.

Her eyes glaze over as she tries to absorb the entertaining flick she'd already seen once that evening, but her ears are still ringing, waiting.

It is not until halfway through the movie that she hears the barely audible click of the front door opening and closing and the answering swoosh of someone, someone fast and harsh and evil, entering her home.

She keeps a steady face. He is unmoving, stationary like one of those weeping angels she's seen on posters and t-shirts and phone cases. She can't see him, but she imagines his hands are covering his face as he silently regrets, silently allows his fears and desires to consume him.

"You can sit down," she offers, not daring to look at him. She's surprised at how _normal _she sounds.

Her breathing is halted, but she stutters all the same when his body moves to collapse on the sofa beside her. He folds himself neatly on the opposite end, crossing one leg over his knee like this is a casual date between two, awkward high school students. In the heart of it, that's probably an accurate description.

Eyes planted on the screen, she can't help but _feel _him. Everywhere. Like he's climbed inside her skin and become a part of her. She breathes him in, and he smells so good. He's always smelled so good, but it's only hitting her right here and now how much she fucking _missed_ the way he smelled.

Neither of them are watching the movie, but every now and then, when a joke gets told or someone shows a bit of skin, Caroline giggles softly, trying to ease some of the tension that's filled the room since he arrived. Oh, if only her mother knew who was occupying half of her couch…

Sometimes, she can sense his eyes on her. She knows if she tilts her head to the side just slightly, she'll catch sight of the most magnificent pools of colour ever to grace the planet. So she makes sure her head stays facing forward, not wanting to know what would happen—what stupid, horrible things she would do—if she dared look at him while her emotions are so incredibly amplified.

She imagines if she had a heart, it would be bursting through her ribcage. But she has no heart, so there is no way for him to tell just how anxious she is.

"You're shaking," he says without looking at her.

_Well, so much for that_.

Without warning, his thigh—Klaus' thigh, the bastard—touches hers and her skin sets alight, glowing beneath the blackness in the room.

Is she truly his saving grace? The bit of light to his overwhelming darkness?

He's too close to her now, but they still say nothing, still pretend to watch the movie.

Nobody speaks until it's over. She stands, hopping a bit as she loses her balance, only to have a hand clasp around her arm to steady her.

Blinking at the man currently holding her like a lifeline, she absently lifts a hand to his cheek and caresses the prickly stubble.

He smiles, leaning into her touch. The way his lips lift is genuine and she feels the dip in his cheek that tells her he's happy. He thinks she's going to kiss him.

Perfect.

"Oww," he grunts loudly as her hand whacks angrily over his cheek. "What the hell was that for?" He demands as she steps away from him wearing a frown on her delicate face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She counters, clenching her hands into fists.

"Why did you slap me?"

Caroline scoffs, the vein in her forehead pulsing like it wants to escape through her skin. "Why are you breaking into my house?"

"It's not technically breaking in," he reasons. Caroline's frown deepens. "I didn't break anything!" He stresses, like it solves everyone's problems.

She reaches for him again and is only mildly surprised when he lets her hand make another mark on his handsome face. Red suits him.

"Better?" He asks soothingly.

_No! _she wants to scream. _No it's not better! _

"You made a promise," she says instead.

Klaus clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "Violence is never the answer, Caroline."

Dammit, he said her name. She's a goner now.

"Yeah, well," she stutters, "neither is breaking and entering."

"If you're so unhappy to see me, why did you let me sit and watch such a fascinating film with you?"

"Because…because...you...I don't know!" She says, throwing her hands up in exhaustion. She doesn't know why. She never knows why. It makes no sense. He makes no sense. "Why are you here?" She tries again.

The son of a bitch has the audacity to look _nervous_. This should be good.

"You—I wasn't expecting you to be awake," he admits.

Caroline recoils, her face scrunching. "You weren't expecting me to be awake?" She shrieks, fully aware that her neighbours can probably hear her. "What kind of creeper thing to say is that? Do all you stalking men have a _handbook_ of creepy phrases or something?"

He smiles, because he never could show how much her words affect him. "Do you find me creepy?"

"Oh my fucking God, so not the point!" She blurts, but he waves his eyebrows expectantly and why should she not indulge him? "Right now? Hell yes."

"And yet you aren't running scared," he smirks, shuffling a few inches in her direction.

"Creepy, not terrifying," she defends, backing away.

He frowns at the distance between them. The good, safe distance between them. "Why are you so intent on staying so many feet away then?"

"Because," she sputters, searching her mind for an answer other than _because I'm afraid of what I'll do if you get too close._ "Okay, you're kind of scary."

"That's not true," he points out. "You don't sound angry. Or even surprised. Can I go so far as to presume you missed me?" He asks.

Caroline gags. Because he is sickly wrong, not because he's figured her out. Yes. "What? No!"

"I don't believe you," he hisses. He never did like being lied to.

"That's because you're notoriously stubborn. Seriously."

"We're one in the same, Caroline. I'll always say it. I'm stubborn, so are you. You still can't stand the parts of you that actually _like _me, so you're attacking me instead."

"Well, look at who picked up a few Psych 101 courses in New Orleans," she mocks.

"You do so enjoy proving me wrong."

"It's one of my many talents."

Stillness engulfs them and Klaus takes another daring step in her direction, clasping his hands behind his back and tipping his head forward so he's forced to stare up at her through his thick eyelashes.

Her mind buzzes with excitement, all attempts to calm down shot dead.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he says suddenly. She can see his arms jiggle with nerves and guesses that behind the wall of his body, his hands are wringing.

"What?" She growls, preparing to launch at him with another attack. What gives him the right to give a flying fuck about her after two years? Where was he when Stefan died? Where was he when Stefan got brought back to life? Where was he when she got attacked by a pack of werewolves three months ago, only to be saved by _Damon Salvatore _of all people? She came away unscathed, but _seriously_.

Klaus clears his throat noisily and Caroline snaps her attention back to him. "I expected New Orleans to be an easy win, but it appears I have many more years of battle ahead of me. Today was a bloody day. I needed an escape. You have always managed to help."

She stares at him for a long moment, trying to decide if he's telling her the truth. It's her, though, so of course he is. "Running from your problems won't solve anything, Klaus. You know that."

"Yes," he grumbles, annoyed. "But this is different. They've taken something of mine, the people trying to bring me down. Elijah suggested I take a breather before doing anything too drastic."

"Good idea," Caroline murmurs thoughtfully, reminding herself half-heartedly to tear Elijah to shreds the next time she sees him.

"I'm sorry for intruding," he says finally, his hands still fiddling behind his back.

"No you aren't."

He grins at her slowly. "No. I'm not."

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2:** _Believe me, it gets even more far-fetched in the next part. Let's just pretend that Rebekah went back to her family and things and stuff. In case of any confusion, Caroline and her friends just finished their sophomore year of uni. _**_  
><em>**

_If you want to review for both parts, I honestly won't get upset. And keep in mind this was written before the Original's finale last night._

_9.5 down, .5 to go!_

_Until later today, _

_-LoveIsATemple _


	12. To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Pt 2

**"My clothes won't let me close the door,**

**These trousers seem to love your floor."**

* * *

><p><strong>Drabble #10 (of 10) | To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Pt. 2<strong>

**Five Months Later (Winter Break)**

"You have to admit, this is becoming a habit," he says as a cork goes flying across the living room.

Caroline runs into the room with two flutes in her hand and passes one off to him.

"I'll never admit to anything. Be careful with that," she scolds, ignoring his infamous puppy dog eyes as he fills the glass with champagne. "I don't want you to break anything."

"I've already popped the bottle, sweetheart. Nothing's broken," he assures her with a gleaming smile far too sweet. It fits funny on his face.

He hands her a glass full to the brim with sparkling wine and grabs the other flute for himself, dumping not nearly the same amount into his own glass. Caroline frowns at him, but he takes no notice of her.

Klaus puts the bottle down on the coffee table and raises his glass above his head. "To friendship," he suggests.

"To friendship," she agrees, clinking their glasses together. The answering chime sends a shiver down her spine.

He drops his arm and plops on the sofa, patting the spot next to him in invitation. Caroline groans and shakes her head, but sits nonetheless. Running through her mind is a mirror image of them on the bench outside the Grill, talking of hopes and dreams before he turned all _psycho Klaus_ on her.

They take sips of their drinks in silence, but she secretly enjoys how utterly _not awkward _it feels.

When Klaus came to see her during the summer, she never thought it would become a regular thing. But it turns out that without all the supernatural drama, they make a pretty good pair.

At first, it was extremely painful. They had to sort through so many different emotions they had stored away in neat little boxes. Verbal sparring matches and sometimes actual sparring matches occurred until the pent up anger and frustration had waned enough for them to sit and have a casual conversation.

Sometimes he stays for an entire night, but never more. Mostly it's a few hours. They'll sit and watch a movie or he'll read some old book while she studies. Sometimes they just talk. She likes those times best.

Stefan is the only one who knows of the arrangement (not by their choice, he walked in on them one evening) and occasionally joins them for drinks. Matt still thinks it was a one time thing and nobody else is aware of anything.

They still remain each other's dirty secret, but it makes their meetings all the more thrilling.

He never tells her when he's going to appear outside her dorm room or outside her home in Mystic Falls. She doesn't understand how he knows where she is at all times, but supposes it's best not to find out.

"I assume Stefan won't be drinking with us tonight?" Klaus inquires, refilling his glass halfway.

Caroline shakes her head. "Busy with Elena stuff."

She swallows a large gulp of her drink, the alcohol slamming into her stomach in bubbly waves. She wishes vampires could get drunk for longer than a few minutes. It would make life so much more interesting.

"Of course," he chuckles. "How's winter break this year?"

"I don't know why you ask me these things. You know exactly how it's going."

"True," he concedes, "but I want _you _to tell me," he says, pointing his glass at her.

Caroline throws her head back, hitting the soft pillows. "It's fine, I think. Nobody's died."

"That's your measuring stick for how well something is going? When nobody dies, it's well?"

Lifting her head, she narrows her eyes at Klaus. "The alternative is much nastier."

He puts his arms up in mock surrender. "Okay, sorry, you're right. It's going perfect if no one's passed away."

Speaking of death always hangs a dull light over them. She is aware now of much of his history. At least, the parts he's been willing to share.

She knows of his child, and of its subsequent death at the hands of his enemies. She gasped when he mentioned it, started filling up with disgust and shock, but how could she possibly be upset with him when he collapsed in a heap of sobs on her chest as he spoke, showing her (_her!_) the utmost vulnerability?

"You know," she says, enjoying the momentary buzz of alcohol as it warms her body and her inhibitions, "I'm actually glad you broke your promise."

Klaus raises his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"Yeah." She takes the final swig of champagne and tosses her glass to Klaus, giggling when he catches it without hesitation. "You're like my bestie or something now."

He smiles teasingly. "Your bestie?"

"Ugh, come on. You know…best friend. My best friend," she explains with an annoyed huff.

Klaus laughs at her immaturity but his eyes are intense as he responds, "You are probably the closest I have ever come to having a best friend in quite some time, Caroline. And we aren't even destroying cities together."

Caroline swallows thickly at his admission, but soon she has another glass of champagne in her hand and that's enough to distract her from the emotional atmosphere.

* * *

><p><strong>Seven Months Later (Summer Break…again)<strong>

"Remind me again why I let you talk me into doing this?" Klaus asks nervously as he approaches the swing hanging over the water. He reaches out and grasps one of the ropes tethering it to the roof of the dock and brings it towards himself. He is dressed in typical swim wear, blue trunks and bare torso, but there is no way Caroline has been ogling him when he isn't looking. Because that would be wrong.

She grapples with her camera, struggling to see what any of the buttons are through her sunglasses. "Because it's fun. I did it and I didn't hurt myself."

"I'm not scared of getting hurt," he says, but Caroline catches the tingle in his voice and puts her camera on one of the beach chairs, taking a few steps in his direction.

"Klaus." He looks at her stoically, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the rope. "It's a swing that just so happens to hang above the water. You jump off when you get high enough and you have _fun_," she stresses, patting him on the back. "Come on, we've been here three days and you've yet to get in the water. We're at a lake, Klaus. You're meant to swim."

Klaus eyes her curiously, taking a step in front of the swing and hopping on. He holds the ropes firmly, but doesn't lift his feet off the dock floor.

A month ago, when Klaus visited Caroline to help her study for finals, she mentioned casually that she wanted to take a vacation during the summer holidays. Nowhere fancy, just somewhere relaxing and secluded where they could enjoy being friends without the stress of hiding. After finals were complete and she was home for break, Klaus knocked on her door while her mother was at work and said he'd booked them a rental home on a lake for four days.

Stefan agreed to be gone for those four days as well so her and Klaus could escape without anyone becoming too suspicious about Caroline's sudden disappearance. With her mother's approval, she hopped in her car and drove to the lake house only to find Klaus had beaten her there.

Today is their last day.

She's spent most of the time in the water, enjoying the weather and the company, but Klaus hasn't even stepped in the lake once. This is her last ditch attempt to get him to face his irrational fear of water.

"I can push you in if you'd like," she suggests jokingly, knowing exactly which buttons to press to get him to do something. Why he needs to be enthusiastically motivated into getting in the water, she doesn't know, but what else are friends for if not to help you get over your greatest fears?

"No, no," he assures her. "I'm fine."

Klaus looks at her one last time as if he's going off to war and she walks to her camera with an exaggerated eye roll, picking up the device and getting it to the right setting so she can take a video. She points it at his back, admiring the way his muscles ripple in response to the tense hold he has on them, and presses the record button.

"Are you recording this?" He asks, twisting his head to peer at her.

"Uh, no," she fumbles. Quickly, Caroline brings the camera down, pretending to polish the screen. Damn Klaus. Stefan will kill her if she doesn't get this video.

"I probably shouldn't believe you, but I will." He turns his gorgeously pathetic face away from her and bounces back on forth on his heels as if he's testing the ground's stability.

"You can do it, Klaus!" She calls to him, lifting the camera again. "You're the most powerful creature in the world, you can jump off a swing!"

That seems to be enough prodding. Before she knows it, Klaus has kicked off the dock and is steadily gaining speed on the swing, swaying through the air like some graceful butterfly. Caroline follows him with her camera, laughing silently at the determination in each of his pumps as he gets himself higher and higher.

"All right, Klaus, let go!" She shouts excitedly, snorting laughter as he flies off the swing and lands in the water without so much as a splash.

Ending the recording, Caroline haphazardly throws her camera and her sunglasses on a chair and does a running jump into the lake. When she resurfaces, she finds Klaus in front of her, a proud smile dancing on his lips.

"You did it!" She squeals, hugging him fast. His half-naked body is slick against hers and he smells like lake water mixed with the citrusy shampoo he uses.

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," he reveals, squeezing back.

Caroline ignores the heat flooding in her belly as she responds, "It never is."

They disentangle themselves and swim to the ladder. Klaus lets Caroline go first and she pretends not to notice him staring blatantly at her as she climbs out of the water. He follows close behind and soon they're both on land, drying their bodies.

"I'll miss this," he says looking across the lake. The sun is just starting to set, lighting the sky up with bursts of purples and pinks. He's not just talking about the view.

Everything they say now has double meaning, especially when it's time to say goodbye.

Caroline goes to stand next to him, wrapping her towel tight around her body, and leans her wet head against his solid arm. "Me too."

* * *

><p><strong>Two Years Later (Graduation Day)<strong>

The abandoned house is empty, she notices sarcastically, pleased that for once she has beaten Klaus to their meeting place. Caroline shuffles through the rooms to find the lounge and casually sits on the sofa. Her graduation dress shifts up her thighs, but she doesn't bother pulling it down.

Throughout the entire graduation ceremony she saw him sitting a few rows behind her mother dressed in a very elegant suit and had to stifle laughter each time Klaus ducked his head to keep out of sight. It is not as necessary now to keep their friendship a secret, but they still hold on to the dangerous high that accompanies their late night meet-ups.

Stefan already told them before the ceremony started that he was leaving for a little vacation and would be unable to join them in their celebration. Caroline thinks seeing Damon and Elena together and stable is eating him more than he's willing to admit.

She's slightly tipsy. Being a legal adult in the eyes of the world apparently means a graduation party with as much alcohol as a liquor store. But she's old already, far too old to indulge in such trivial, college graduate activities. As Klaus always tells her, _when you're an immortal, like us, time moves differently. Maybe not for you, not now, but soon you will begin to realise just how slow the hours crawl and you'll begin to wonder why you've spent so much of your life trying to live too fast_.

She understands more than he gives her credit.

"You beat me," a voice whispers. Caroline whips her head around in search of the source, but sees nothing.

"If you're trying to frighten me, it's not going to work. And we both remember what happened last time," she warns him, rising to her feet. She wobbles in her heels a bit and kicks them off.

Breath hits the back of her neck, freezing her in place. The air is warm suddenly and sweet-scented.

The body behind her laughs, the vibrations shaking her. "Why you thought a baseball bat was a good idea, I'll never know."

Caroline rotates to find Klaus' bright, teasing smile and giggles at the memory. "You should learn not to sneak up on a sheriff's daughter. I'd been waiting to use that bat against an attacker for years."

"I'll bet, but I wasn't attacking you," he emphasises for the umpteenth time since that fateful night when he crept inside her dorm room while she was cramming a last-minute study session only to have her beat him with an aluminium baseball bat.

"Not the point. You scared me, and I reacted. You should be proud of me," she proposes, patting his arm. Klaus grabs at her hand and silently leads her away from the lounge. Caroline knows better than to ask questions, following him wordlessly until he stops when they enter the kitchen.

Dropping her hand, Klaus leaves Caroline standing as he rummages through the refrigerator she thought for years didn't work, pulling out a rather fancy looking bottle of champagne.

"Now," he says, "I know you've already drank a bit tonight, but I thought it wouldn't be a Caroline and Klaus get-together without some of this stuff." Klaus starts peeling the foil quickly and before she can really comprehend what he's said, there's a loud _pop_ and the cork soars into Klaus' prepared grip.

"I have to agree," Caroline laughs, moving to gather a couple of glasses. She finds only plastic cups in the old cupboards, but supposes it's better than nothing. They're vampires, a little bacteria won't kill them.

1.1.1

"It must be gift time by now!" Caroline whines, throwing her empty cup at Klaus' head. He's too fast and she's a little inebriated though, and she winces when the cup lands loudly on the wooden floor.

Her body is thrown over the worn sofa, her dress wrinkled and stained with spilled champagne. Not her fault, Klaus got a little excited during their game of monopoly and knocked over his cup. Klaus sits on the floor by the empty fireplace, facing her. He wears a forlorn expression at the mention of presents as if the word is poison.

"What?" She asks, her face contorting into a painful scowl.

Klaus chuckles humourlessly, getting to his feet and walking over to where she's struggling to sit up. He soothes her back down and lifts her legs so he can sit, placing them delicately over his thighs once he is settled. He runs his hand once up her smooth shin, landing on her knee. His skin is warm over hers. Inviting.

Sober again, Caroline, for once, cannot find anything to say. The atmosphere has transformed from playful and fun to way too dramatic. She doesn't like it.

"Klaus, what's the matter?"

He glances at her briefly when she says his name, but averts his gaze immediately. Apparently a random spot on the floor is more interesting than her.

"I knew I was going to have to tell you sooner rather than later," he says after too much silence. Her ears ring as his voice drifts inside her head.

"Tell me what?"

Caroline dislikes freaking herself out, especially when she considers the fact that she's fucking _undead_ and not much should scare her. But when Klaus looks like he does now, defeated, and when she doesn't know why, she can't help herself.

"Oh, Caroline," he murmurs. Too sadly, too heartbroken. "How long have we been meeting like this?"

"Two years, eleven months, two weeks, five days," she answers without hesitation. He shoots her a confused look and she shrugs. "Not that I'm keeping track or anything."

Klaus shakes his head at her. "And how long do you think you could go without seeing me?"

Something, her dead heart maybe, cracks, spilling blood and acid and horror. She tries to get up, but he holds her down, leaning over her. His eyes, those damn eyes, are swimming.

"What do you mean?" She demands through gritted teeth, her own eyes pricking. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Shh," he lulls, pacifying her worry. She hates how can he do that now. How he knows her so well that he has the ability to calm her even when she wants to be scared. His eyes close and when he opens them, they're clear. "A war has begun in New Orleans. Marcel, he can't control his people anymore. He phoned me just before I arrived for the ceremony. I need to go back."

Caroline stares unblinkingly at him, her mouth slightly unhinged. Without thinking, she reaches for his clean-shaven cheek. He flinches and she has to smile. The past three times she's done this it's always been followed by a slap. Only after she smoothes her thumb across his skin does he bow his head into her hand.

"It's not your battle," she reminds him. He gave up the fight for New Orleans a few months ago, he doesn't have to do this.

He nods, but there are still words sizzling on this tongue. "No, but it is my kingdom, whether or not I wear its crown. I must fight for it."

"How long will you be gone?" Her voice sounds crazy even to her own ears. What is it about people—vampire or otherwise—that makes them so immune to their own feelings? Why does it have to be so much more than true that you don't realise how much you care for a person until they're out of your reach?

Klaus leans in, pressing his forehead to hers, his warmth seeping into her skin. It's a bittersweet comfort, something he does when she's unhappy or thirsty for blood, but now it feels like a permanent farewell. "I don't know. If Marcel's word is anything to go by, it could be a long while. It's a supernatural war, love. Not easily mended with threats and bloodshed. They will fight until it is over. Until there is a clear winner."

"I'm done with school—" she starts to say, but Klaus cuts her off before she can finish.

"—No, you are to stay safe. _I_ cannot die. You can."

"Well, it isn't _that_ easy to kill me," she defends, tightening her hand around his jaw and forcing him to look her in the eye.

"You don't understand, Caroline. Here, in Mystic Falls, you and your friends work in tandem despite your differences. There are no divided factions. You live in peace and harmony together. Out there, in New Orleans, it is us against them. The vampires, the witches, the werewolves. There are no good guys in a war like this. They will not think twice before running a stake through your pretty, little heart if you stand in their way," he informs her, growling as he approaches he end of his warning.

"I can fight. Just because I'm a girl—"

"—Love, this has nothing to do with your gender. I've seen you fight, you're clever and brave. This is about keeping you safe."

"I don't need you to keep me safe!" She complains, pushing him off of her and whooshing to stand.

He follows her up, tugging her arms and pulling her close so their noses almost touch. Her veins throb beneath her skin as he speaks. "I can't let you walk into a battle like this unprepared."

"Then train me," she spits, yanking her arms from him.

Klaus smiles bitterly, placing his hands on his hips in anger. "What happened to us, Caroline?" He asks and she is not sure she understands him. "What happened to you denying me at every turn?"

"What are you talking about?" She cries, frustrated.

"You!" He shouts, then quieter, "You and me. I begged you to follow me before, asked you multiple times only to have you turn your back. And now you're more than willing to join me. It's a battlefield out there, sweetheart."

"I like fighting."

"You like danger," he corrects spitefully. "You like the thrill that comes with almost dying. I can't lose you, not now. Not after all this."

"I'm not a porcelain doll, Klaus. Don't treat me like I'm going to break," she hisses, venom springing off her tongue. "And don't think that being my friend gives you the right to tell me what to do!"

Klaus rushes for her, his hands clapping either side of her face painfully. "You think we're friends?" He croons and she realises that for the first time in years, she's afraid of him. Of what he could do to her. It brings back memories of before high school graduation, when he showed up in town as the baddest of the bad, willing to kill anyone for the slightest reason. "We've never been _friends_."

"Then what are we?" She snaps, feeling his index fingers hovering over her temples. One press and she'd be on the ground, writhing in pain, unable to die.

"We're those people in the horrid romantic comedies. We're _Some Kind of Wonderful_ and _The Lizzie McGuire Movie._"

"You've seen _The Lizzie McGuire Movie_?" She can't help but ask. _Not the time, Caroline. So not the time._

"Because that was exactly my point," Klaus sighs, dropping his hands. He'd never hurt her, she knows, but sometimes she wonders if someone who has spent so long being so bad can truly ever care about anyone. Let alone her. "We've been good at fooling ourselves for quite some time, love, but I'm leaving tomorrow. I do not enjoy feeling regret, and I fear that if I abandon you without saying this, I'll regret it."

"Then say it," she chokes.

"I can't," he groans, completely feral.

"Come on, Klaus," she goads. "You're not a coward. Confess to me. You've done it before."

There is a beat of nothingness. Of stillness. Of risk.

Then, everything is fast.

That is the only word she can use to describe what happens next. _Fast, fast, fast._

One second they are glaring at each other and the next his mouth is bruising, wholly consuming, hers.

It takes a second for her to respond, but after a few scared moments of trying to figure out what the fuck happened, she relents, moving her lips against his knowingly, savouring the familiar, breathtaking taste.

Fingers thread through her hair as he sucks on her lips, coaxing her mouth open with one tingling swing of his tongue. She—maybe foolishly, maybe not—lets him in.

She never knows when it comes to him.

In her mind, she's laughing at herself. And at him. They're both so stupid and so blind.

Stefan teases her about Klaus all the time, about the connection they share. She ignores him because it's a terrifying thought. He's so dangerous, but as Stefan reminds her, she's also quite dangerous when she wants to be.

There is pain in the kiss, sweet-tasting pain that sits on her tongue and slides down her throat and settles in her blood. It shouts at her over and over again, saying the same thing, blinking red warning lights: _there is no going back._

1.1.1

It is dark inside the house, everything is still. Klaus sleeps on the carpet with a blanket hanging loosely over his naked body. There's something undoubtedly creepy about the way she is staring at him, but he looks so peaceful and she wants to memorise him like this. She wants to remember him like this.

Her eyes drift momentarily to her discarded, ripped dress. Maybe she can cut a piece of it and start a scrapbook of all the items of clothing Klaus has destroyed of hers. It would be a large scrapbook.

"What are you thinking about?"

Caroline shivers as Klaus' hand trails down her bare back, hitting each notch of her spine. His body is fire behind hers, licking her with white, burning flames.

"How much I'm going to miss you," she says honestly, turning around. "Hey, no fair," she pouts, pointing to his fully clothed form.

Klaus rolls his eyes, but there's a smile hidden there somewhere. "I told you I had to leave when we were finished."

"Oh, yeah." Caroline walks into Klaus' arms, naked and sad and wondering why, why, _why_.

"Does this mean you've decided not to come with me?" He asks hopefully, pressing his cheek to the temple just hours ago he was threatening to crush.

Caroline buries her face in his dress shirt. Buttons poke her nose, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much as her head does. "For now," she mumbles. "I've got loose ends here."

"And when they're tied?"

Lifting herself away is hard (he smells so good, so much like the home she never thought she could ever have), but she does it and peers up at Klaus' watery eyes. "I like fighting," she repeats. "And I also kinda like you. Like, a lot. Seriously," she says, and he smiles and then laughs.

Caroline pulls on his neck, bringing his head level with hers, begging for him to hear all of her unspoken words. "I'll come find you," she promises.

And she kisses him, letting his lips and his breath and his soul devour her.

* * *

><p><strong>"I've been working on my backwards walk,<strong>

**There's no where else for me to go**

**Except back to you just one last time,**

**Say yes, before I change my mind."**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Well, that is that. It's over, save for a few bonus chapters that will eventually come out. In the next hour or so, I'll be publishing a new story that helped me get over my writer's block, and if you're interested in darker, AU/AH stories, come check it out. Shameless self promotion, but I'm excited about it, so why not share? _

_Okay, I think I just have to say thank you. To absolutely everyone who has read this from the start and to those of you who only just found it. If you liked it, hated it, loved it, thank you. It's been a pleasure getting to explore these random scenarios with you as an audience. You definitely make it worth while. THANK YOU, seriously. _

_"Backwards Walk" is a great Frightened Rabbit song, taken off an album entirely about a bad break up, and our lovely couple are basically a break-up song in their entirety, so I thought it was fitting. _

_I really, really hope you enjoyed the end. I had fun trying to think of three different stories to tell with these guys where they actually had a somewhat normal relationship, and I believe the ones I picked aren't too bad. It's so unbelievable, but that's what I love about fan fiction. _

_10 down, 0 to go. I can't tell if I'm happy or sad..._

_Until next time, nonetheless,_

_-LoveIsATemple_


	13. London Calling

**A/N 1: **_It's true, I'm back! Sorry, sorry, sorry about taking forever with this. But this is the first update of many that will be coming out soon. I'm excited to get back in the swing of things, and I hope you're all excited too. _

_This is the first bonus chapter for this series, but I'm also going to put it out as a one-shot. Don't feel that you have to read both. At all. _

_This is a rewrite of the first drabble-**Klaus and Caroline meet in the future outside of both NOLA and Mystic Falls**. It's set after the last season's finale, and for the sake of artistic license, Bonnie and Damon don't come back. Sorry._

_Here you go, guys. Excuse the mistakes. I'm on vacation and had to travel all the way to a Starbucks just to upload._

_ Please enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>"I am still in love with you,<strong>

**Can't admit it yet."**

**Good Arms vs. Bad Arms | Frightened Rabbit**

* * *

><p><strong>Drabble Bonus # 1 | London Calling<strong>

"I'm leaving, guys. I can't be here anymore!" She shouted, her throat threatening to bleed.

Everyone looked at her with wide eyes, their mouths hanging open. Even Tyler looked shocked at her reveal. Stefan jumped up from his sitting position and flashed in front of her shaking body, grabbing both of her hands before they could tear anymore hair from her head.

"Caroline, think about this," he said calmly, catching her frantic eyes.

Her mind ran a thousand miles a minute, trying to produce a proper sentence. Inhaling a deep breath, she gave him her best helpless face. "Stefan, this is too much," she whispered carefully. "Too much."

* * *

><p>People kept running into her, reminding her that flying on a Saturday morning the first weekend in official summer was probably a bad idea. But what she'd told Stefan last night was the truth. Losing Bonnie and Damon had been the final straw. Her body was not made of glass, but her armour was definitely starting to crack, and if she stuck around in Mystic Falls for much longer she'd be splinters scattered on the ground before she could blink.<p>

Getting away from Virginia, from America, was the only viable option for her. Seeing the world had always been something she'd aspired to do, but since becoming a vampire those dreams had been put grudgingly on the back burner. This was the push she needed, and boy was it a forceful one.

Elena had cried, her leaky eyes spewing such sadness at having to come to terms with not only saying goodbye to Bonnie and Damon, but now Caroline as well. And her mother…

Her mother almost said no, Caroline saw the words forming on the sherif's tongue until Stefan pulled her aside and explained things. But Matt had promised to take her to the airport, which was sweet. He stood beside her as she got her bags checked and traveled with her to security, a hand placed gently on her back.

"This is where I leave you," he said when they reached the bustling, overcrowded line.

She peered up at him—at Matt, that boy who really loved her for all she was and who hated the supernatural wars and all they took from them just as much as her—and wanted to burst into tears. But she didn't. She would not break until she was far away from this place and could do so without someone tapping her shoulder, asking if she was okay.

"Be careful, Care, all right?" Matt checked, bringing her into a hug. She breathed in the lingering scent on his sweater and allowed herself to mould into his body for one moment, trying to scorch into her memory how his strong arms felt wrapped around her.

"Of course," she laughed, though nothing was funny.

Shoulders brushed against the hugging pair until they decided it was probably time to release one another. Caroline wiped her increasingly tearful eyes and grabbed ahold of Matt's hands. He smiled down at her with his own wet baby blue's.

Matt lifted his thumb to wipe away a stray tear off her cheek. "Are you sure about this, Care? A one way ticket?"

Swallowing the urge to sob and run back to her house with Matt, Caroline nodded her head slowly. "Yes," she sighed, sure of herself. "I've always wanted to leave this place, and now I think I need to."

"But London?" He asked with a shaky laugh. "So far away from all of us?"

"Hey," she whispered, suddenly aware that a few people were staring at them like they were love-sick teenagers. "I'm not forgetting about you guys. That's not why I'm going. It's not to abandon you. It's to save myself from literally going insane, which we both know won't take very long if I stay."

This was getting too serious for her. She needed a clean break from this world, and Matt was making it difficult. One look in his warm eyes and she wanted to sag into his arms again and never break for air. But what she said was true. How she'd been able to _not_ lose her mind since this all started was beyond her.

It was time: time for her to move on.

Matt stepped away from her and released her hands, laughing through tight lips. Caroline found herself almost reaching back for his comforting grip, but stopped herself just in time.

"Right," he giggled sadly. Maybe he was the insane one. He did have a rather wild look on his face. "I know you need to go, I know…but I just don't want you to," he blurted quickly, shaking his head. "But that's selfish of me to say, right?"

Not knowing how to respond—how did one reply to such a statement from such an old friend—Caroline tried to smile, the muscles in her cheeks throbbing in protest. "Maybe. Probably. And I would stay, in a heartbeat, if I knew that everything was going to be okay if I decided not to get on the plane, but there is absolutely no guarantee of that. Life will go on without me, Matt. You'll see," she assured him, though she didn't really believe anything she was saying.

Life would go on, but in the back of her mind she knew she was abandoning her friends when they probably needed her most. She was running away, becoming a coward.

"And I suppose life will go on without us, too," he said. "You should get in line."

Matt shuffled to the side and gave her one more quick hug.

"Don't forget about us, Care," he nearly shouted at her, the beeping from a metal detector causing all other noises to dim in comparison.

Getting in line, Caroline tried once again to stop tears from welling over her lower lash line. She looked over her shoulder at Matt and lifted her bow-shaped lips. "I never could."

* * *

><p><strong>Three Years Later<strong>

"Caroline, you're needed!"

Sighing unenthusiastically, Caroline stood up from her very special "break chair" and spied a little girl crying over a spilt soda. Her manager, Lindsey, whose accent was thick and northern, shooed her away with her hands.

A little girl was in need of a new drink, and it was Caroline's duty to help.

"Hi, can I clean that up?" Caroline asked sweetly.

The little girl nodded, tears brimming. Her parents looked exasperated. Caroline knew the look well.

With a smile on her face, Caroline began mopping up sticky lemonade, using flimsy napkins pulled from the apron tied too tight around her waist. Her hand quickly began helping with the cleanup as the drink soaked through the pieces of tissue paper at rapid speed.

_Great, _she sighed inwardly. _And only two hours left on my shift. _

"Thank you," Mrs. Drink-Spiller said, very sincerely, when Caroline had finished.

The blond nodded, even though cleaning up sticky messes made by clumsy little kids was not exactly in her job description. She wasn't the janitor. "You're welcome."

She walked away, back to her break chair, with sticky fingers and palms.

Noises burst from all around her as she sat. Diners in England were definitely more popular than they were in America. No matter the hour, there was always someone eating or drinking or smoking (in designated areas).

The reality made Caroline's heart sing.

When she'd moved three years ago, she had been nervous and excited and terrified. New city, new people, new obstacles.

She didn't have Elena and Matt and Stefan to fall back on anymore. When her cravings hit, she had to run to the employee bathroom, grip the sink so tight she thought it would break, and stare at herself in the mirror until her horrific veins popped out of sight.

Then she'd run out the back door and find some scared animal in an alleyway. That always sated her until evening.

After dark, after returning to her flat, she'd escape outside. She always found herself at the millennial bridge, staring out at the water, feeling the foundation rock beneath her feet.

She never feared it collapsing. If it did, she'd race off, or fall in the water and swim to shore. Dying wasn't something that scared her, not anymore.

Her first night here, all she'd done was cry in her hotel room. Horrible, screeching sobs that deafened even her. Bonnie—gone. Damon—gone. Her world, falling, failing—gone.

But then she'd fallen asleep on the comfiest mattress she'd ever laid on and awoke to the sound of taxi cabs blasting their horns. To the smell of freshly baked bread and fuel.

It wasn't raining like she'd thought it would be.

It was sunny. Cloudless, even.

So she decided to move on and leave her heavy heart on that soft mattress.

Finding an apartment wasn't as difficult as Matt had warned her. Supposedly, his mother had spent some months in London as a free spirit some time between home visits, and came home crying about the rent and the lack of space.

Caroline got lucky. Well, somewhat…

Too bad Matt's mother couldn't use compulsion.

A job was another matter entirely. Where did one work when one had no degree, absolutely no life experience outside of a tiny town called Mystic Falls, and the strange impulse to dig their teeth into the necks of unsuspecting foxes and pigeons?

Diners, she found out soon enough.

There was a small one near the Thames (near her flat, near everything) that was hiring when she moved. One interview later and she was working every day except Sunday.

Today was Friday. And she still hadn't called Matt back.

_Hey, Care, it's me. Matt. Just calling to see how you are. We're worried about you. Well, not really. But we do worry about you. Not because we think…you can't…you know…protect yourself or anything… Anyway, it's been more than six months since you last called. That's too long. Call me back…please. Bye…_

He left that message three days ago and it had been playing in Care's—Caroline's—mind every minute since. Work wasn't important today, not with those words (_We're worried…That's too long…please_) running laps in her ears like he, Matt, was right next to her, holding her, needing her like he used to. Like he probably did now.

Leaving had been the best thing for her. Probably for all of them. She was too fragile then. Bonnie—no, she couldn't go there. She hadn't gone there in three years.

They were all suffering. All separated. All alone.

Elena and Stefan spent less time together now, apparently. Matt kept tabs on them both, but neither was interesting in conversation anymore.

Matt said they sulked all day long. Elena wore black, like she was constantly preparing for a funeral. Stefan would sometimes take his ring off and stand in the sun for as long as he could without collapsing into a pile of ash—just so he could feel that _one step closer _to his brother.

Caroline forgot. She forgot about the pain in her empty chest and paid attention to the pain in her feet and back and neck. That was better. That was best. That was why she'd moved, so she could forget. And it was working.

It worked so well that she forgot she even had a mother. And a dead best friend. And a former life. And fangs that ached and pulsed when she hadn't fed enough.

She was that pretty blond with the blue eyes who worked at that diner near the Thames river. She was that girl, that woman, who smiled sickly sweet and then joked about spitting in customers' food.

That was who Caroline Forbes was in London.

"Caroline!" Lindsey waved her hand in front of Caroline's face.

She snapped out of her depressing daydream and pretended to forget the dryness in her throat which could only be cured by thick, heady blood.

Lindsey looked expectant.

Caroline realised she needed to talk now. _Be normal, Forbes!_

"What is it?" She stood from her chair and walked to Lindsey—who stood upright and attentive by the single register—as she spoke.

Lindsey's eyes (bright green, like a cat's) wandered to a seat near the entrance. Caroline didn't follow her gaze. It was rude to stare. "Customer," she breathed.

Frowning, Caroline tried to see if anything was physically wrong with Lindsey. She never sounded so out of sorts.

"He's not in my rotation," Caroline told her, because it was true. And because Lindsey was panting, which was weirding Caroline out.

"But he's sort of been staring at you. And he's really attractive. And I've never seen you with a guy, so I'm giving you this one."

"You're giving me a customer?" Caroline blinked. "Is there some underground prostitution ring here that I'm totally unaware of?"

Lindsey blanched. "Caroline! _No_. Just go. Now."

Caroline rolled her eyes, but obeyed, still refusing to look at this apparent hunk of a human being. She grabbed at her notepad and fumbled for a pen as she approached the table.

Still, she didn't look up.

She liked the anticipation. Lindsey had good taste in men, and maybe Caroline would appreciate being _extra _distracted tonight.

There was a speech all employees had to recite when reaching a table, and Caroline was just about to start saying it—with perfect fluency—when she was interrupted.

"This is your idea of culture?"

The voice was sultry, soft, and threatening. It hummed low and caressed each word with care

A shockwave of emotion flurried through her. Everything from anger to lust spiked to dangerous levels. Her mind buzzed with confusion because that voice…

She knew that voice. She _knew _it.

She heard it in her sleep. It called to her when she was lonely and scared.

Suddenly her eyes cast upward, throwing her directly into the harsh glare of one Niklaus Mikaelson: Vampire King Extraordinaire.

Caroline frowned. _What the fuck? _

Then she glared back. _Seriously. What. The. Fuck? _

"No," she replied coolly, surprised by her own ability to appear calm and collected. Especially since she was staring into the eyes of a man she'd not seen in years. Especially since he looked even better than the last time she saw him. All scraggly hair, black clothes, and scruffy stubble. "This is my idea of working. What can I get for you, sir?"

Klaus, the bastard, the fucker (_don't go there, Caroline. It'll be your doom_), raised his beautifully sculptured eyebrows at her in delighted surprise.

_He must get those things waxed or something. _

"Oh, come on," he reprimanded, like she was a child. She wanted to angrily cross her arms and stomp away, just to prove his point. "We've been on a first name basis for years now. In fact, I do believe you once called me God."

Caroline got the immediate feeling that she should probably vomit, just to clear all the poison churning away in her stomach.

"Your ears must've been blocked. I never called you God."

Klaus—Niklaus, whatever—smirked broadly, showing off his dimpled right cheek. _No keeling over, Caroline. No! _

"You were screaming rather loud, but I'm pretty sure it was good ol' G-O-D."

Crimson paint smeared over Caroline's cheeks. She wanted to melt away. And then melt right into Klaus.

She shook her head violently, her ponytail tickling the back of her neck, and stared at the cocky vampire sitting down in _her _place of work, disturbing _her _happy equilibrium, just for _his _fun and games. She wasn't his pawn. He couldn't use her anymore.

"Stop it," she demanded. "Just tell me what you want, or get out of here."

"Would a kiss be asking too much?" He asked sweetly, batting his golden eyelashes.

Caroline rolled her eyes painfully, ignoring the ache in her lips at his words. "What do you want that the diner actually serves?"

"You on a silver platter?"

"I can throw you out of here, you know that, right?"

"But I'm thinking of giving you a generous tip. Would you want to skip out on that?" He rolled a hundred pound note on to the table, pressing his fingers through the creases.

Its scent wafted to Caroline. It smelled like him, like the woods, like home—and it was extremely, aggravatingly intoxicating.

"You're such an ass," she spat, pinching her eyebrows together. She picked up her feet and turned to walk away, but he reached out quicker than lightning, grabbing her wrist, holding her in place.

His fingers were warm. Soft. But she felt a few calluses scratching her skin.

Cautiously, Caroline met his playful eyes again, almost getting lost in the sea of greens and blues.

She wanted to punch his perfect, stupid face.

Klaus let go of her arm, and an icy wave splintered through her. "Have lunch with me."

_Wait, what? _

"Food, Klaus," she said, stern. "What would you like to eat?"

He smiled his all-too-familiar secret smile. "I think the woman who seated me was giving me a nice look. Maybe her?"

"Did you come here to torture me? Or are you going to order some actual, handmade food from our kitchen? Because I really don't have to put up with this."

"And yet," he sighed, his eyes glittering, "here you are."

Caroline's mouth slackened in disbelief. "Because you just waved one hundred pounds in my face."

"Admit it. You missed me."

"Could you _be _any more egotistical?"

"I assure you, yes."

Caroline was very, very close to losing her temper. She inhaled a cleansing breath and tried again. "Seriously. Just give me your damn order."

"I'll have the cheeseburger. Skip the pickles and add extra mayo," he said quickly. The ease with which he spoke made Caroline believe he'd known all along what he wanted.

"Finally. Any drink?" She asked automatically.

She saw his answer before he spoke and held up a hand. "Forget I asked. I'll just get you a water. With extra _ice_."

He smiled, showing off the dimples that made him so much younger and more playful. "To match my cold, cold heart?"

Caroline jerked her head down to hide the small smile tugging at her lips until he spoke again. "And I'm serious about you sitting with me."

"Well tough. I'm working."

Another secret smile danced like a ghost across his face. "I do own this place, love. You'd be wise to obey me."

Caroline actively ignored his old term of endearment. "Obey you?"

"I'm just asking," he clarified.

"No," she corrected. "You're demanding. Niklaus Mikaelson doesn't ask."

Klaus lowered his eyebrows. "We've not seen each other since you left me after that mind-blowing experience we had in the woods those few years ago." He spoke like he was telling the worlds dirtiest joke, which only made Caroline's blush burn even darker. "I have changed, dear Caroline."

"You've been alive for over a thousand freaking years, and you expect me to believe you've changed your evildoer ways in _just four_?"

Her rhetorical question was met with a low growl. "Say that again, Caroline. I think some people back in Virginia didn't hear you."

His hidden threat—say that again, Caroline…and I'll rip your pretty little head off—didn't frighten her.

He didn't frighten her anymore. He only annoyed her.

"What? Afraid the supernatural police are going to rush in and poke your delicate heart with just a bit too much white oak?" She teased. When he didn't smile, she sighed and said loudly, "It's a metaphor. It means I think you're really old and disgusting."

Klaus rolled his eyes in a very uncharacteristic way. Like he was actually having fun. "Just sit with me. Or this bill goes away." He flapped the crisp hundred in front of her and gave her his best version of puppy dog eyes.

Damn, she'd forgotten how good his puppy dog eyes were.

"You do realise you're bribing me just to sit with you?" She pointed out, if only to get those eyes away from her.

_He hasn't changed_, she told herself. _Not one bit._

His face fell at her words though, and he crushed his hand around the paper.

"Please," he pleaded, his greeny-blue eyes turning strangely innocent.

Caroline looked around, looked everywhere but at _him_, and decided something. She'd give in, but just because she needed the money. Not because it was him. Not because he looked like he'd be genuinely hurt if she refused.

Not because she'd probably regret refusing him.

Not because she'd _definitely regret refusing him_.

"Fine," she huffed, pretending very well that the agreement hurt her soul. "I have to give your order in and then I have to tell my manager that I'll be sitting with the owner."

She started walking away again, only this time he let her.

When she was a few safe feet away, she turned back and faced him with narrowed eyes. "If I find out you don't own this place, I'll spit in your food," she threatened. His eyes lit with glee. "And I won't sit with you."

He held up his hands in submission and simply smiled at her proposal of severely defiling his burger.

* * *

><p>"So, how did you come to own this place?" She asked as he took a large bite of his burger, somehow managing to still look unfairly handsome even when some mayo stuck to the fine bristles of his stubble-drenched chin.<p>

"Compulsion? Threats?" She teased, hoping reluctantly she wasn't on point.

Klaus picked up one of the napkins Caroline had given him and patted it around his mouth. He barked a small huff of a laugh. "No, sweetheart, I bought it. It was all honest money."

_Love, sweetheart. _The way he said those words, those familiar, old words, tore through her resolve bit by bit. Each time he said her goddamn _name_ she feared she'd turn to putty right before his eyes.

"Why, then?"

"Why not," he replied cryptically.

"That's not a very reasonable answer."

Klaus took another bite, swallowed, then grinned. "When you've got too much money, all you can really do is spend it. Charities, clothes, small businesses." He motioned around the tiny diner.

"You don't give to charities," Caroline whispered, shocked.

A glimmer of laughter shone in Klaus' eyes. "Of course I do. All the good ones. Charity balls are fun. Boring, but fun."

"That's an oxymoron." Klaus lifted an eyebrow in question—_Which part?_ Caroline held in a huff. For someone so old, he wasn't very bright sometimes. "Boring but fun. That's an oxymoron," she explained.

"The company is fun, but the actual event is boring. There, no oxymoron." If he were childish enough, which Caroline knew he _probably _was, she could imagine (very vividly) Klaus sticking his tongue out at her at that very moment.

"You'd probably enjoy them, charity balls. You dress up in fancy clothes, wear white gloves, pretend to be above everyone else in the room…"

He was teasing her. And it took Caroline a moment to realise she didn't actually mind. In fact, she liked it. She'd missed it.

God, she was losing her mind. How could she _miss _Klaus making fun of her?

Because it was normal. Or, it had become normal. Before everything went bat-shit crazy. Before Bonnie cut her hair. Before Elena _really _chose Damon. Before she had a little crush on Stefan. Before, before, _before_.

And she missed before.

The conclusion formed a heavy lump in Caroline's windpipe, which she tried to remove by laughing throatily at Klaus' joke.

"Aren't you hilarious," she deadpanned.

Klaus leaned back in his chair, plopping the burger back on his plate, and laced his fingers behind his head. "Do you remember the ball at my home back in Mystic Falls? You wore the dress I got you, the bracelet. We danced, I spilled my guts to you, you left…" He sounded wistful, like maybe he missed before as well.

"First of all," Caroline said, holding up one finger. "I had nothing else to wear, I told you that—" Klaus grinned at her—"And second, I hated you then."

"So you do remember."

"It was an eventful night. I told you off."

His eyes sparkled in remembrance. "I spent hours that night trying to figure out what you'd done to me. I think I was angry at first, annoyed that such a small thing like you could affect me. But then that made way for some stronger emotion and I knew I had to make it right."

"And drawing me was your way of saying, 'Please forgive me for being such an ass'?" Caroline questioned, putting on her best impression of Klaus.

"Your accent needs work darling, but yes, it was." He was silent for a moment. Deep in thought. Then he retreated against his chair again—"What happened to that drawing?"

_Shit_.

Caroline grimaced, prepared for an outraged attack. "I may or may not have destroyed it…with a shredder," she said slowly, warily.

"Ah," Klaus breathed.

She chanced a look at him. He was still smiling. Proving that he had magnificent dimples.

"You're not mad?" Caroline asked.

"Don't sound so surprised, Caroline."

"I _am _surprised. Four years ago you would have gone postal."

"A lot has changed in four years, love," he said bleakly, that perfect smile vanishing in a puff of smokey gloom.

_Like what, _she wanted to ask.

"A lot," he said again, answering her unspoken question.

She frowned. The Original vampires hadn't learned how to read minds since she last saw them, had they?

Klaus sighed and ran both hands through his curls. "I'm not here to talk about me, Caroline."

A question popped in her head, one she couldn't believe she hadn't asked yet. "Then why are you here?"

"To see you." He said it too quickly, and his voice curved at the end of his statement, turning it into an unsure question.

Caroline scoffed and folded her arms on the table, giving him her classic _I-don't-believe-a-fucking-word-you've-just-said-to-me-Klaus _look, even though it proved he'd somehow been keeping tabs on her since they parted ways. "Don't lie to me, Klaus. Not now. Not after four years. I know you, remember? You made damn sure of that. I know when you're lying."

For a moment, Caroline thought Klaus was going to argue with her. Tell her she didn't know him. Tell her to stop saying things that weren't true.

But he didn't.

"I was asked to come see you. To…to check up on you," he murmured reluctantly.

Caroline's mouth clicked open. "What?" She breathed, but she wasn't sure if she'd actually spoken. There was too much blood pounding in her ears. "By who?"

Rolling his eyes, Klaus stomped an angry foot on the floor. "By that stupid boy of yours. The blond one," he growled.

The diner had thinned in customers since Caroline sat down with Klaus. There was one couple left, sipping their shared milkshake, completely oblivious to the hostile undercurrent in the room.

"Matt?" She gasped, her face turning red—anger, not embarrassment.

Klaus tore his hands through his hair once more, tugging the curls. "Yes, Matt. Rebekah's long-lost love."

"But…why?" _Why? _She screamed at herself, _because you've been MIA for six goddamn months. _

"Why?" Klaus hissed. "Probably because for the past six months he's been thinking the worst. You vanished, Caroline. He got worried."

"I was going to call him," she mumbled petulantly.

An invisible trigger went off. "When were you going to, Caroline?" Klaus roared. Caroline spied the couple finishing their milkshake. They were staring. _Keep your hair on, Klaus. _"Answer me."

Tears pricked Caroline's eyes. "I…I don't know," she whimpered.

"You don't _know_?" He asked, softer this time. He sounded wounded—winded. "Caroline, he was so scared. When he called me yesterday, he thought you'd died."

Klaus said the words so bluntly that Caroline wanted to throw up.

Matt thought she was dead?

"Did he really?" She whispered.

Nodding solemnly, Klaus closed his eyes, like he couldn't bear to be in this situation. She couldn't either, so she closed her eyes too.

"He said, 'Caroline's supposed to call. She's supposed to have called me by now. Klaus, she wouldn't just drop off the face of the earth. She knows how much we worry. Klaus…Klaus, I think something horrible's happened. I think she might be dead'."

She wasn't sure, but Caroline thought she heard Klaus' voice break on the word _dead_.

"I'm not dead," she said, like it fixed the problem.

She opened her eyes to find Klaus scowling at her.

"_I didn't know that_," Klaus snapped. Then he sighed a heavy sigh and rubbed his forehead. "I told him I'd check up on you. I knew you'd left the country. I knew you were in London. All Matt had to do was tell me where you worked." He smirked, finally, and looked around the diner. "Seems even an ocean apart you're drawn to me."

The ease with which Klaus zoomed through emotions reminded her of the night she met Kol. She'd been having genuine fun with Klaus for about five seconds before he grabbed her and demanded answers she didn't even have.

_Mercurial._ She'd learned that word years ago, but never before did it fit a situation—or a person—so aptly.

So she played along, swallowing the strong urge to burst into tears, and slipped a smirk on her face. "I didn't know you owned this place."

"I know," he agreed. "That's what makes it even nicer. The one eatery I own, and Caroline Forbes ends up working in it."

* * *

><p>They talked and they ate and they laughed. Nina Simone crooned through the diner speakers on repeat, singing about feeling good and putting spells on men.<p>

When there was a lull in their conversation, Caroline sat back and shook her head at the absurdity of the day. Never in a million years did she expect to see Niklaus Mikaelson in her place of work, checking to make sure she hadn't died. Never did she think Matt would go to _Klaus _of all people because he thought something horrible had happened to her.

Matt disliked Klaus as much as he would allow himself to dislike anybody. It wasn't much, but it was a lot more than Caroline had ever seen him hate before.

Christ, he must have been petrified. He must have had no hope if he was willing to call Klaus and ask him to go all the way to England to see if she was still alive.

What had he told her mother? Caroline spoke to her less than she spoke Elena and Stefan.

Did Matt lie to the sherif and say that everything was fine across the pond? Or did he worry her too, so he wouldn't have to worry alone?

Why hadn't she called him sooner? Was she too wrapped up in life here that she completely looked past the fact that her friends were in just as much pain as her?

"You look pained, sweetheart." Klaus interrupted her train of thought. She jerked her head in search of his voice. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing. Everything." Caroline stifled a yawn.

"Sounds tiring," he offered.

"You've no idea." She studied her pale hands, just so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye. "My shift's over now, by the way. You can leave."

"I'd like to see where you're living, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," Caroline said before thinking it through.

But then she thought it through and realised she didn't mind.

* * *

><p>Caroline found Lindsey in Caroline's break chair.<p>

"Lindsey, I'm leaving. You still good to lock up?"

"How do you know the owner?" Lindsey said instead.

What's the best way to go around this…? Lie? Omit? Pretend she really, really needed to leave?

"He's a one night stand from a few years back." _Great job, Caroline. You're lying skills are superb! _She mentally slapped herself.

Lindsey stood up and sucked in a fast breath. "You slept with the boss?"

"No. Yes. Wait, no. You're my boss. He's like, the _boss _boss."

"So you slept with the _boss_ boss?"

"Yeah. But I didn't know who he was."

"You minx!"

"No, I knew who he was. We'd known each other for a couple of years. I just—" Caroline stopped, gathered her thoughts, and rolled her eyes—"I didn't know he owned this place when it happened. I haven't seen him in years."

Lindsey giggled like a schoolgirl for a few seconds. Caroline suppressed the urge to shove her back into the break chair—_her _break chair.

"Go, Caroline," she said eventually. "I'm fine here. Leave. Go. He's hot and he wants you. He obviously came here just to see you."

There was truth to Lindsey's observation. Klaus was always a big believer in grand romantic gestures. (The bracelet, the ball gown, allowing Tyler to come back—but only because he was her 'first love' and he intended to be her 'last'.) But she wouldn't tell Lindsey the reason he came this time was because he thought she'd died.

She also wouldn't tell Lindsey about the times Klaus nearly killed her. After all, he more than made up for it in the amount of times he'd saved her.

* * *

><p>Caroline lived in a tall building. Floors and floors of apartments. Apartments full of rich people who wondered how on earth the small girl with the American accent afforded to live in one of the flats on the upper floors.<p>

She daydreamed about sitting in their laps and sinking her aching teeth into their snobby necks.

_Mmm, human blood._

Seeing Klaus gazing at nighttime London through the all-glass wall in her sitting room gave Caroline funny feelings. The blue lights from the London Eye gave him a hard look, but she could tell he was relaxed—his breathing was slow and melodic, nothing like back at the diner.

"I never get tired of that view," she told him, walking up to him with a glass of straight bourbon in hand.

He took the alcohol and smiled warmly, like he'd already had too much to drink. "I've missed it," he said, and she blushed, because she wasn't sure if he meant the Thames, or if he meant her.

Caroline wanted to talk, she wanted to chatter her cares away. Matt thought _she was dead_. She needed to forget about that. It needed to not be a thing anymore.

But she'd been hiding for six months—_three years_—that's how this happened. That's how Klaus Mikaelson ended up sitting at the diner where she worked, checking to see if she was still alive.

"Why you?" She asked. She stood beside him in her work clothes (white top, black trousers), peering out at the water.

Klaus chuckled softly. "I don't know why he called me. I don't know how he got my number." He frowned, obviously still a little confused about the situation himself.

Untying her hair, Caroline let her blond locks float around her shoulders. She ignored Klaus' primal stare as she threaded her fingers through.

"Okay, and why did you come?" She wasn't even sure if she wanted an answer, but the question—why, Klaus, why?—had been itching her throat.

The Original vampire leaned against the glass, raising an eyebrow at her. She mirrored his expression.

"Well…" she probed.

He sighed reluctantly and finished his drink in one long sip. Putting the glass on a small table by the wall, he moved an inch closer to Caroline.

"Because I wanted to. Because I, for some strange reason completely unbeknownst to me, still care about that silly small town of yours and all the little people in it." Klaus ran a hand through his hair, his new tell-tale sign that he was getting worked-up. "I hadn't seen any of you in years. _Years_, for Christ's sake. But one phone call from the All-American and I booked myself a first class ticket for the next day."

Caroline staggered forward, toward Klaus, until she could feel his heavy breathing on her skin. "I'm not dead," she said for the second time that night, though she knew it didn't help anything. "You didn't have to come."

Her words were met with a bitter laugh. "That's the thing though, isn't it? I _did _have to come. I had no choice. As soon as I heard your name, I was already halfway here."

The admission sent a swarm of butterflies to Caroline's stomach. She staggered again—closer, closer, closer.

This was dangerous. _He _was dangerous. The most dangerous creature in the world. But he smelled inviting and sweet, like the Virginian woods she left behind.

Klaus inclined his head in her direction, so that their foreheads were almost touching. The heat radiating off his skin soaked into her blood.

"I told Matt I'd tried to get you back to Virginia," he said lowly.

She closed her eyes as a painful electric shock zapped her dead heart. "I can't, Klaus. I can't. It's too much."

"It's been too long, love."

A hand cupped her chin and she opened her eyes warily. Klaus' callused, soft fingers held her head steady. He was pleading with her…very calmly.

_I've changed_, he told her that evening_. _

She sucked in a soft breath and pulled her lips into a small smile. "What are we doing here, Klaus?"

"Well, I'm trying to get you to go back to your friends."

"I can't."

"You can. You need to."

"I can't get time off," she said lamely.

Klaus' eyes flickered dangerously. "I'm sure you could convince your boss."

She laughed sharply, sarcastically. Oh, she was definitely still a pawn in his little game. "I don't know about that. I hear the owner of the diner doesn't like people having more than one day off a week."

"He sounds like a hard ass."

Caroline pulled her chin out of his grip and turned to face the river. London at night was too beautiful. She didn't want to leave.

"I don't want to go, Klaus. I like it here." She felt a tightening in her chest, which was stupid because she thought that not having a working heart should stop it from hurting so goddamn much.

He placed his hand on her back, like he couldn't bear to not touch her. "You don't have to leave. Not forever. Just for a little while. Just so they know that you're okay."

"And a phone call won't do that?" She asked, frustrated.

"No," he said sternly, his fingers pressing into her flesh. She'd almost forgotten he was holding her.

He was right. Which was annoying. And painful.

"Okay," she murmured quietly, but she knew he was listening.

"Okay?" He sounded relieved.

Caroline nodded, her head swimming. "But I'm serious about getting time off. My boss probably won't be pleased."

"Caroline," he admonished playfully. _Mercurial_. "I'm the _boss _boss, and I'm giving you some time off."

"You were listening to my conversation!" Caroline gasped, slapping Klaus' hand off of her.

He giggled the same giggle as when she went to him looking for a prom dress. "She's right, you know. I am very hot."

"Ugh!" Caroline moved away from the window-wall. "You're insufferable."

More giggling. Then it stopped. Then—"I did come here just for you. I can't tell you how relieved I was when I came in and saw you." He sounded somber now, his voice right behind her. "Call the boy."

He meant Matt. He was asking her to call Matt. To tell Matt that she was alive and that she was coming home, just for a little while. To prove that she was still walking and talking and taking her blood.

But his voice was right there, and she hadn't seen him for three years, and she was always so bad at turning away from him.

So she didn't.

She turned toward him instead, and, almost like magic, her lips ghosted over his.

* * *

><p>"Go, call the boy," he said breathlessly when she broke away. His lips were pink, and soft. Just like she remembered. He pressed his forehead to hers, his hands still clasped behind her back. "I don't know what you've done to me, Miss Forbes."<p>

"Don't call me that," she instructed. "And I don't know. I assume it's the same thing you've done to me."

He took a step or two away from her then and pointed to her cell phone. Shaking her head at him, Caroline obeyed. The phone felt heavier than it had when she'd put it down, like it was weighed down with guilt and regret and pain.

"Hey," Klaus said under his breath, behind her once more. "You can do it."

"I can do it," she said to herself.

Caroline unlocked the mobile and searched through her contacts. Something told her that if her heart still beat, it'd be jumping up to her throat.

Matt's name flashed on the screen. She pressed the letters, watching them transform into his smiling face. Seeing it nearly broke her.

She brought the phone to her ear, squeezing it so tight she thought it would snap.

Shivers ran through her, synched with the ringing blasting in her ears.

Someone's hand rested on the back of her neck and then a voice whispered, "You've no idea how happy I am right now. How unhappy I've been. How happy simply seeing you has made me."

The ringing stopped. Someone—someone else, someone with a gruff American drawl—said, _Hello? _

She held her breath.

"Matt…hi."

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: **_Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Let me know!_


	14. You Know I Love You

**A/N: **_SURPRISE! It's a new bonus chapter! I just finished this, and I haven't really looked over it because I wanted to get it out as fast as possible (as I have a meeting I need to get to in forty minutes), so there will one-hundred percent be mistakes. Sorry..._

_But anyway, I really, really hope you guys it like it! It's a bit weird, I'll admit. It's my second take on the prompt: **Caroline and Klaus on the phone.** _

_Hope you enjoy! _

* * *

><p><strong>"Still, I need your sway,<strong>

**'Cause you always pay for it.**

**And I need your soul,**

**'Cause you're always so full.**

**And I, and I need that heart,**

**'Cause you're always in the right places****."**

**Sway | The Kooks**

* * *

><p><strong>Drabble Bonus #2: You Know I Love You<strong>

New York City got cold in the winter. Caroline always forgot that. No matter how long she'd lived there, she couldn't get used to the dramatic changes between winter and summer. They had no in-betweens, not in New York. It was either too hot or too cold. Her vampirism meant she didn't feel the effects of such harsh weather, but she pretended she did. She pulled long-forgotten memories from her human years and tried desperately to remember what it felt like to be so hot in the middle of the night that she was forced to rip all of her clothes off.

That was one of the things she missed most about being human—feeling arbitrary things such as cold and heat. All she felt now was nothing. She had a neutral body temperature that never seemed to waver unless she was suffering from a werewolf bite. And that had only happened twice, both instances long ago.

She liked to watch all the other New Yorkers from her living room window. It was a tall thing that looked down on Times Square. She'd see mothers carrying shopping bags in their winter coats, and men with jewellery boxes stuffed in their jeans' pocket.

Tonight, she observed a young couple who looked to be on their first date. They stood at least one foot apart, but one would have no trouble guessing they were together. His hand kept swinging dangerously close to hers and she kept looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

Something in her wanted to push them closer—see what would happen if they finally did touch. Finally gave into their human emotions and needs and just _connected_. But she remained where she was, a vampire eye-stalking two people who seriously looked like they needed to get laid.

Or maybe that was her . . .

Caroline groaned to herself and pushed off the window, turning around to look at her empty penthouse apartment.

It wasn't really empty. There was furniture of all sorts covering the floor. Pictures drawn for her by a man—_ha!_—who wasn't even there.

It wasn't empty at all, but it was lifeless.

"God, Caroline, stop being so fucking depressing!" She told herself, stepping further into the lounge.

She draped herself over the large, red sofa in the centre, deciding it was about time she got some sleep. Maybe she'd feel less depressed in the morning.

* * *

><p>When her eyes snapped open, it was still dark. The streets of New York were quieter, but something inside her apartment was loud. Caroline sat up, eyes searching for the intrusive noise. Her gaze landed on her cell phone, beeping and whirring, on the kitchen counter.<p>

In a flash, she was next to it, looking down at the screen as it jumped and flashed. A warm smile met her lips and she picked it up. Nervous energy crowded around inside of her, but she commanded herself to calm down and pressed the _ANSWER _button.

"Caroline," he crooned, his voice instantly making her dizzy.

If she had a beating heart, it would be cracking her ribcage right about now.

"Hi," she responded, not caring how squeaky she sounded. "I miss you," she admitted before he could say anything else.

Klaus laughed through the earpiece. Goosebumps rose on her skin at the sound of his deep chuckle. Fucking hell, she was such a _girl_.

"I miss you too," he said, sounding sincere. "Sorry it's taken so long for me to get back to New York. Crises don't like to fix themselves."

Caroline rolled herself. She knew that well enough, having dealt with such crises before. "Well, as long as you're safe, I'm happy."

"I'm safe," he assured her warmly, and if she closed her eyes she could see him where he was—phone plastered to his ear just like her, sitting down at some desk or pacing some floor, a smirk tugging the right side of his face.

There was a pause, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Not like it used to be.

When they first started calling each other, it got awkward and sad fairly quick. Minute pauses would spread into elongated silences, leading to one of them hanging up in frustration. Then they'd ignore each other for a good while until they decided once again that they couldn't really survive without hearing the other speak.

When they'd moved to New York a few decades ago, both of them had been extremely lost. Neither knew how to properly handle a relationship, and it was already such hard work to deal with him.

Then he started travelling, getting away for a little while as she stuck herself in New York, too stubborn to go with him and too angry with Mystic Falls to go back home. Because she was the one who stayed. Always stayed.

He would return after a week or two away, and she would be pissed. Pissed that he just upped and left, pissed that he didn't call or check in on her. What if she had accidentally fallen on a wooden spoon while he was away? What would he come home to then?

Eventually they realised separating themselves from each other didn't do either of them any good. So, when he was angry at her (or her with him—which probably happened more), they would sit and talk about it. He refused to speak at first, but she'd softened him up in the end.

Now, though, he was away on urgent business. A brother in need, or something like that. She apparently couldn't know, in case someone decided to use her as a bargaining chip against Klaus.

And she missed him. Desperately.

Was this called codependence? Or just being madly in love with someone?

"Good," she said softly, moving back to her place on the sofa. She lay on her back and looked up at the tall ceiling. "This place feels so vacant without you, do you know how much longer you'll be away?"

Klaus sighed, and she imagined breathing in his minty breath. "I don't know, love. Honestly. I'm just so tired of this. Kol needs to learn that just because he came back from the dead, does not mean he's suddenly immortal again."

"Supernatural laws are the weirdest things. I feel like they keep changing."

"Mmm," he agreed distractedly. "You'd think I'd know all of them, but new ones keep popping up."

Caroline frowned. "You sound tired, Klaus."

"I don't get tired, sweetheart, you know this," he countered, but he still sounded sleepy and concentrated on something that wasn't her.

Suddenly, just as he spoke, there was a knock on the door. Caroline jumped up, her feet smacking the hardwood floors.

She hadn't let anyone into the apartment. You needed a special code to get to the penthouse floor. Only about fifteen people knew that code, and most of them weren't even in the US anymore.

"Klaus," she hissed. "Someone's at the door."

Whoever was at the door knocked again.

"Better let them in, I think," Klaus said casually.

Caroline blinked. "What? Answer the door to some stranger? You want me to do that?"

"Go ahead. Live a little," he pushed.

Maybe she should've figured it out right away, but she was slow and desperate for Klaus, so she wasn't entirely in her right mind.

Caroline headed for the front door carefully, trying to think of the many ways she could dismember somebody, and looked through the peephole.

Her phone clattered to the floor.

"What are you doing here?" She nearly shouted, hands scrambling to unlock the door.

When it swung open, she saw his mouth about to move, about to explain, but she didn't give him a chance. Caroline leapt up into Klaus' arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her lips found his instantly. She sucked and bit, shoving her tongue between his teeth, clinging like a vine to his body until she was breathless.

Seeming to go along with it, Klaus slammed the door closed with his foot and clutched Caroline's behind to keep her close. His mouth moved with hers as if they'd been doing this all of their lives, but truthfully, she felt like she'd never kissed him so vigorously.

"Sofa?" He asked between kisses, not waiting for a response before he threw her onto the couch.

Caroline looked up at him. At his tired face and worn eyes, which now glowed with lust. He tore off his t-shirt, flinging it somewhere behind him. Caroline heard it land softly on the floor.

He bent down, covering her body with his, moving his lips and tongue all up and down her throat. Moments later, he crouched at the opposite end of the sofa, lips connected to her nightgown-clad stomach. Peering at her, Klaus began sliding the garment up, slapping kisses whenever a new spot of skin was uncovered.

Caroline shivered beneath him, trembling with need. His mouth was so _warm _against her skin. So much for not being able to feel hot and cold.

When he reached her naval, he dipped his tongue in and around it, and she cried out, her hands tugging at his hair. He grinned against her stomach, but she didn't have the strength to slap him.

Pushing the nightgown up and over her breasts, Klaus tore the whole thing off of her, his eyes planted on her full chest. Klaus had the amazing ability to make Caroline feel like the most beautiful creature on earth, and when he stared at her like that, like he couldn't believe she was really there, it made her want to explode with happiness.

Bending down, the hybrid laved her breasts with his tongue, grumbling appreciatively when her nipples puckered against his tongue. Caroline squirmed beneath him, her fingernails scraping up his back and into his hair.

"I missed you," she gasped as he moved to her other breast.

Klaus jerked up for a moment, a gentle smile curving his lips. "I missed you too."

He leaned closer, pressing his lips firmly against hers in the sweetest kiss. Caroline's eyes fluttered closed.

"Pants," she mumbled against his lips, grappling with the belt of his jeans. "Off."

With some help from Klaus, she managed to shove his trousers and his boxers down in one movement. She almost wanted to high five him, but thought that would kill the very sexy mood they had going on at the moment.

Climbing back over her, Klaus started nudging her underwear over her hips at a quick pace. Before she knew it, they had joined the large pile of clothing beside them.

Caroline sighed in content as Klaus and his expert, painters fingers trailed around her sex. Her hips moved of their own accord, searching for something more.

"Klaus," Caroline whined when Klaus' fingers slunk further down.

"Yes," he responded, and suddenly she was full.

Completely and utterly full. Of Klaus. Of his unspoken love for her.

She clenched her eyelids shut, basking in the wholeness she felt. She was not a jagged, broken vampire baby when Klaus was with her. She was a queen. Someone who ruled over her own little world. Over him, even.

She was complete with him, she always would be. And it would never be truly easy. Both of them still had such horrible problems they needed to fix.

But here, with him, everything was right. Everything was mended.

* * *

><p>"My phone's dead," Caroline complained the next day. She picked up the device and put it on the kitchen table.<p>

Klaus gave it once over, pushing his breakfast plate to the centre of the table. "Why?" He looked at her, smiling when he saw she was wearing nothing but his shirt.

She scowled at him. "It's your fault. I forgot to hang up when you showed up at the door."

"How is that my fault?" Klaus asked, obviously holding back a laugh.

"Well, because," Caroline huffed, sitting on Klaus' lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "If you hadn't showed up completely out of the blue like you did, I would've remembered to hang it up."

Smoothing his hands up Caroline's back, Klaus gave her a full on smirk. "Sweetheart, I wasn't the one who thought it would be a good idea to have sex before I even walked through the door."

"No, but you surprised me by just . . . showing up. With no warning."

"I wanted to surprise you!" He defended, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Admit it, it was a good surprise," he dared her.

Caroline rolled her eyes, loving the way his lips felt against her skin. "I never said it wasn't a good surprise."

Klaus held her closer. "It was the best surprise. For both of us, I think. Who knew you were such a sex-crazed vampire?"

"Shut up." Caroline smacked him lightly on top of his head. "You know you love it."

"Mm," he growled. "I do."

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: **_Thoughts? Anyone? ...Bueller? _

_I'll be posting the third part of London Calling pretty soon. By next week, hopefully._

_Alright, that's it for me for the time being. Thanks so much!_

_-LoveIsATemple_


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